#i really need to figure out where this goes
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🍨 svt spoiling their partner.
★ prompt: how ot13 spoils their partner? 🥹🥹🥹 i am just a girl give me treats c/o @shinwonderful
ⓘ established relationship, pet names, fluff. headcanons under the cut. special thanks to @chugging-antiseptic-dye for helping! ♡
🍨 read more?
seungcheol 𖹭 planning dates. he will refuse to let you lift a finger for your day out. everything will be meticulously laid out, finetuned to be something that you'll enjoy. his goal is to lessen the mental load of decision-making and planning; he wants you to be able to focus solely on enjoying the surprise, and he'll break his back to make sure that happens.
jeonghan 𖹭 'parallel play'. even if the two of you might not be interested in the same things, that's okay. he's happiest to spend quality time with you at home, where the two of you are free to do your own thing within eachother's presence. just being in your vicinity already makes him content, and so he plans everything around the two of you getting to explore and share your respective hobbies.
shua 𖹭 acts of service. need help with your taxes? need someone to fill up your tank? he's already on it. he'll say that these are all 'little things', call it the bare minimum, when it's apparent that he makes it a conscious effort to make your day-to-day easier. his brand of spoiling you comes in the form of quietly doing things that will improve your quality of life.
junhui 𖹭 buying clothes you'll like. he can't help it, really. when he sees an article of clothing that he thinks suits your style? when he finds a local brand that shares your advoacy? he's already pulling out his wallet. he likes the idea of dressing you up. nothing makes him happier than knowing you're wearing an outfit that he entirely picked out for you.
soonyoung 𖹭 daily reasons why he loves you. people always joke that he has a bit of a motormouth, so why shouldn't he use it on talking about you, you, you? he's big on words of affirmation, on making sure you never doubt how he feels for you. he'll point out the little and big things that make him adore you, and it's never the same reason twice.
wonwoo 𖹭 indulging your interests. he may not always understand these trends— blind boxes, must-have fashion pieces, et cetera— but he'll never make you feel bad about it. if there's anything that you want, he's already doing everything within his power to get it. his greatest joy is seeing your face light up once he's gotten you your 'priority' item; it's why he keeps doing it in the first place.
jihoon 𖹭 trying new things for you. there's a long list of things that jihoon never thought he'd do, but then he started dating you. time and time again, he willingly goes out of his comfort zone to accompany you on the little adventures and experiences that you ask to go on. he does these things scared, does them anxious, does them begrudgingly,— does them all for you.
seokmin 𖹭 meals he thinks you'll like. he's the type to have dozens of tabs open for homemade recipes dot com. he knows he's an amateur at this, but he's undeterred in trying. whether it's a trending pastry on tiktok or the comfort meal that your mother makes you, he's determined to learn it so you're always eating well.
mingyu 𖹭 getting-to-know card games. he gives as good as he takes, which means mingyu's way is to listen and remember. a night where the two of you can just have deep conversations with no interruptions is his ideal evening. he will know he succeeded if the two of you end up talking until the sun rises, feeling like the hours haven't passed at all.
minghao 𖹭 postcards from tour stops. he loves art and he loves you. his postcards are pocket-sized reminders of those facts, always packaged with a few choice words that are sweet and sincere. his trinkets are very "i-got-you-this-because-it-reminded-me-of-you" in nature, and you know each one was purchased with you at the front of mind.
seungkwan 𖹭 getting you your favorites. he figures he should put his industry connections to use somehow. he's always amused by how happy you get over a rare photocard, signed album, or concert tickets, and so he keeps it up. buying dozens of albums, contacting other labels, bearing the arduous ticketing. your excitement at the end of it makes it all worth it.
vernon 𖹭 producing songs. he hadn't really pegged himself as the making-music-for-the-sake-of-it type until he met you. now, he revels in getting to send you a track that's for your ears only. all the lyrics just seems to flow naturally when it's you inspiring him, and so he sends you works-in-progress with reminders that you're the only intended audience.
chan 𖹭 at-home massages. he's all too familiar with the aches of an ailing body, so he knows exactly how and where to work on you. he always does what he calls 'the works'— a good bath, scented candles, essential oils. he lets you take your time, and he takes his time with you in helping you unwind.
› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao
#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt fluff#seventeen fluff#svt imagines#seventeen imagines#svt smau#seventeen smau#── ᵎᵎ ✦ mine#── ᵎᵎ ✦ reqs#[ need this . Rn . pls ]
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Y'all if you really need this to be all queer all the time I can support that but it's not that fucking hard to do. Make em both bi or pan or nonbinary or any number of fun things. The notion of a romance founded in mutually seeking an abortion and the intimacy of sharing one's desires for the present and maybe the future against the backdrop of ensuring one another's freedom from parenthood (at least, right now) is too good a concept to let go.
Couple of Texan kids, say. I spent a long time there, it's a natural pick for me. They're in college and they go to one of those keggers the frats throw, meet at a wild party as college kids, maybe they're freshmen or sophomores. Call em Sam and Kris so I don't have to specify which character has which genitals.
Sam's a nervous anxious perfectionist with huge career plans and big dreams who has life planned out in exhaustive (and exhausting) detail, only even at this party because a friend insisted on a break between exam rounds. There's a lot of internal pressure built up that's going to explode the moment Sam relaxes. Kris is a little unformed, not sure what major to pick or what career to settle on, still trying to work out what kind of person might be good to grow into, good at surface connections but kind of lonely for something deeper. The frat parties are familiar and comfortable—Kris knows how they work and how they run, and if you're friendly and you smile at people and maybe hook up now and again you get to feel REALLY connected and useful, and that's a heady feeling. They meet at the party Sam's friend picked out and immediately feel the attraction and hook up while totally shit faced—huge aberration for Sam, maybe not so much for Kris. There's a condom, but it breaks. It doesn't seem like a big deal in the moment, but in the morning, that's another story.
Sam is panicked. A baby is going to derail all their careful plans and their self control, but you can't not step up to take care of a baby. Ohhhhhh fuck oh fuck oh fuck, what do we do? Kris is quiet as they consider the mess and the possibilities. Shit. Shit shit shit. They maybe exchange numbers and withdraw for a minute until someone's period is late. They might try to find plan B but neither of them is entirely sure where you buy that shit and it takes a few days to find out, by which point it's too late. And then the period fails to show up, and it fails to show up, and the pregnancy test reads positive, and they're running out of time...)
CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE
IF SAM HAS A DICK: they are a moral and ethical enough person that they do not consider abandoning Kris as an option if the pregnancy goes to term. They may propose marriage or coparenting as a potential option but they are clearly terrified by all possible options.
Kris is touched and kind of flattered. They're not sure whether they want kids or not, but now doesn't feel like a great time with everything so up in the air. Anyway, Sam is hot but used diapers and vomiting do not sound hot at ALL right now, and Kris's parents are kind of distant and definitely aren't going to be any kind of useful. They broach a preference for an abortion, Sam sags in shocked relief, and then starts talking about figuring out how to pay for it—not what Kris expected—and making plans to skip classes and talk to teachers to figure out the logistics. Oh, Kris thinks, feeling warm and fuzzy: Kris expected to be on their own to fix this, but Sam is acting like this is both their responsibility equally to resolve. They've never felt cared for like that. Oh...
IF KRIS HAS A DICK:
Sam is hyperventilating over the pregnancy test results and acting as if going to one party doomed them for all time, and Kris inexplicably kind of wants to hug them? Shit happens sometimes. They ask tentatively what Sam actually wants as Sam starts collapsing under the weight of the impending ruin of their life and how disappointed "everyone" will be and all the bad things that might happen, and Sam whips their head over and stares for a second in astonishment before saying, huntedly, "I want for none of this to be happening!"
"Oh, okay. Do you want an abortion?"
"I can't afford to on my own, I'm going to have to ask my parents for extra money and they are not going to be happy. Shit, shit, shit, I'm going to be paying for this until the end of time, I don't have time for this—" and Sam bursts into tears. Kris feels bad and, like, look. Kris likes to help people anyway, and it's not like this situation isn't equally Kris's own fault. So they offer to help Sam figure this out and pay for the whole thing—they've got a job at a bar that can cover it—and they help Sam calm down and explore some options so that together they can find a place to get an abortion. They offer to drive, too: that means they don't have to wait as long on a bus or something but Sam can study from the passenger seat. It's not like any of Kris' classes require a lot of effort; psychology is good for that much. Let's make a day trip out of it.
Sam, who is used to having to do everything on their own, is feeling really cared about and seen right now. And, well, Kris is really hot...
There you go. It's a fucking romance. Deal with it.
there's an extremely niche plot in romance fiction wherein our invariably heterosexual leads fall in love after a night of passion leads to an unplanned pregnancy and they're now bound together by an impending child. I cast no judgment on anyone who enjoys this, but since I'm an evil gay and this is my personal nightmare scenario I want to see a zany romance novel premised on the opposite resolution: a couple falls in love while on a whirlwind roadtrip to obtain a legal abortion
#911 brain rot for example: imagine Eddie and Sharon's relationship in the world where there isn't Chris#Or at least not there right THEN anyway#Imagine the future where they both get to go to college and be their full selves#Find out who they are to one another and who they actually want to be#It's a very different story EVEN IF YOU BRING CHRIS IN LATER#I've been the accidental kid who sparked a marriage and changed everyone's lives quite young okay?#And not even THAT young#It's hard to not have opinions about that when you know how much parenting can cost things about people's dreams and careers and lives#Especially for women#An abortion is a gift of time
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Evergreen | Chapter Five: Acceptance
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Chapter Summary: It's almost Christmas, so you take the time to reflect on your accomplishments while enjoying the peaceful life you've created with Joel.
Chapter Warnings: language, soft!joel, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, food and alcohol consumption, Christmas, so much fluff it hurts
WC: 5.1K
Series Masterlist
"Alright, try some of this."
Ellie set down her spiked hot chocolate on your kitchen counter and stood to take the spoon from your hand. She blew on the soup before sampling a small taste and vigorously nodding her head.
"That's fucking amazing, we should make that a regular item."
You grinned and tossed the spoon in your sink before maneuvering around her to reach the spice rack. Your new house was just a two-bedroom ranch and the small kitchen took some getting used to, but you finally made the rented space feel like home. Although when you and Ellie occasionally found yourselves crammed in your kitchen to test some new products for the food truck, you couldn't help but long for the beautiful kitchen you used to have.
"I think I'll add this and take off the turkey chili, it doesn't do too well," you said before turning to your fridge and scribbling something on the white board. It was close to Christmas and you had already introduced your cold-weather menu for the food truck, but you were always actively looking to make tweaks where it was needed.
"Sarah really likes the chili," Ellie reminded you.
"I'll make her a big batch and divide it up so she can freeze it when she goes back to school."
"Is she helping out on the truck tomorrow?" Ellie asked before picking her hot chocolate back up, then she wandered over to your living room to examine some ornaments on your tree.
"Yeah, she's helping all day. Joel's gonna get a kick out of seeing her on the truck for the first time," you laughed. You checked the time and turned off the burners before lifting the huge pot of soup with a grunt and setting it on an unused side of the stove to cool. Joel and Tommy's crew were working on a retail storefront and you had promised to stop by with the truck for lunch the following day. You had figured it was in a busy part of town and you were hoping to also capitalize on all the holiday shoppers.
Chicks 'n Chicken specialized in, well, chicken, as the name implied, but when the weather turned colder, you realized sandwiches just wouldn't cut it for the winter, so you began to add soups and stews to pair with your signature sandwiches like The Ellie, The Sarah, and The Joel. It was the first big idea you had when you finally took the plunge and started a food truck: every sandwich was named after someone important to you, including sandwiches named after Mia and Daniel.
At first, it was hard. Really fucking hard. Harder than you expected. There was so much to do behind the scenes: bookkeeping, inspections, keeping the truck and your machines up to code just to name a few. Joel was a huge help with the business side of things and you were eternally grateful for his insight. In return, you let him be your taste-tester, a job he adored and took very seriously.
Once you got the boring stuff out of the way, things got much better. You hired Ellie to assist you, and even her girlfriend Dina worked part-time. The two of them painted the truck these gorgeous, vibrant colors and helped you design the menu, and before you knew it, you were up and running.
The first couple weeks were slow and steady. You didn't expect to make much right off the bat, but you would have been lying if you said you weren't slightly disappointed you didn't do more business.
But then Sarah and Ellie came to the rescue, and your entire world changed.
They had clued you in to the latest social media app and helped you create an account. They must have been avid users because they always knew what was trending, which is how you managed to create a video that went viral overnight. It was the three of you doing some silly dance to a song you had never heard before inside the truck. When you watched it, you cringed and begged them to delete it, but they promised it would be a hit. And boy, were they right.
Just a few months later, you were closing in on one million followers. The girls kept your page fresh and relevant and if you were a lesser person, you might have been a little put out that your marketing degree essentially became useless when competing with two girls in their twenties who were apparently chronically online.
But you absolutely loved it. You were beyond thrilled you had been so unexpectedly successful so quickly. It was the best gift you could ever have received, and you told them so every time they pestered you for Christmas gift ideas.
"Your parents coming up for Christmas?" Ellie asked when she spotted a framed picture you had of them next to your couch.
"Uh... my mom is, yeah," you said, dusting your hands on the sides of your jeans as you moved around your kitchen. Ellie picked up on the tone in your voice and swiveled around.
"But not your dad?"
You shook your head and pulled out the biggest Tupperware containers you could find.
"No. He's not thrilled with some of the choices I've made," you told her, keeping your gaze focused on your work so she wouldn't see the hurt in your eyes.
"The food truck or Joel?"
You cleared your throat and shrugged. "Both. He thinks I'm investing Daniel's money in something where I'll end up failing and he is not okay with Joel being a few years younger than him."
"Shit. I'm sorry," Ellie said softly, joining you back in the kitchen. "That's fucked. But at least your mom sounds cool, right?"
"Well, she's coming around to it. It'll be her first time meeting Joel and I'm really hoping once she sees us together and how great he is, she can report back to my dad and maybe change his mind."
"Ha, no pressure, right?" she laughed. You grinned and finally turned to face her.
"You know what? I'm starting to not even care. Is that bad?" you asked with a guilty look on your face. But before she could answer, you continued. "I mean, I'm happy. I'm successful. Joel and Sarah are amazing. Should I even care if they agree with my choices or not? I'm an adult. I don't want to ruin my relationship with my parents but I'm not willing to sacrifice my own happiness for it."
"Hell yeah, man," Ellie said while toasting you with her hot chocolate. "You got the right headspace. Therapy is doing you good."
"Yeah, surprisingly, it kind of is," you said with a chuckle. An alarm went off on your phone and you glanced at it curiously before your eyes widened in panic. "Shit! I promised Joel I'd be over for dinner, I gotta clean up and get the hell out of here." You snatched your apron off and then your eyes locked onto the huge vat of piping hot soup on your stove.
"I'll handle it. Go!" Ellie said, waving her hands. "I'll lock up before I leave."
"Are you sure?" you asked, but you were already backing out of the kitchen.
"Absolutely. I'll watch some movie or something while I wait. Dina's working at the bookstore til ten, anyway."
"You're the greatest, Ellie, thank you!" you called over your shoulder as you disappeared into your bedroom to change.
"How is it you look prettier every time I see you?"
You giggled when Joel's scruffy beard scraped against the side of your neck, then melted into his arms when they circled around you from behind.
"Did you know you left the oven on? You're lucky you didn't burn the place down," you teased, tilting your head to give his lips better access.
"I was just takin' a quick shower, I knew there was plenty of time left."
He wasn't wrong. The lasagna he made still needed fifteen more minutes. Joel had actually gotten a lot better at cooking over the last few months. He liked to give you all the credit since he spent so much time watching you in the kitchen test new dishes for the food truck.
"And look at that," he murmured when he glanced at the timer. "Still got extra time. Any idea what we should do?"
"Are you looking to get dessert before dinner?" you asked, feigning shock. Joel chuckled against your throat before pressing himself against your ass and - shit, he wasn't joking.
"Been almost a week," he groaned against your ear. "Missed you so fuckin' much
"I missed you, too," you whispered before twisting around in his arms. You pressed your lips eagerly against his, getting lost in the familiar way you fit together. Whenever you were with Joel, your soul felt at peace. Everything seemed to make sense again and any stress faded away. But those things were difficult to explain to your parents without sounding insane, so you stopped trying, perfectly content with keeping the happiness he provided just between the two of you.
You blamed your weak resolve on the fact you had a stressful few days without him, craving the comfort only he could provide. That was why you found yourself less than five minutes later straddling his lap on the couch with your jeans abandoned somewhere on the floor behind you. Joel didn't even take his pants off all the way. He had shoved them down to his knees in a frenzy, desperate to feel you again after a long week.
The air stilled when you sunk down on his cock, the both of you too caught up in the feeling to remember to breathe.
"Oh, baby," he breathed, head tipping back to rest against the back of the couch. "Oh, that's it. That's my girl. There you go," he whispered, eyes glued to the way he disappeared inside you. You shifted and a small whimper slipped past your lips, pulling his gaze back up to you.
"How is that? Feel good?" he asked while circling his arms around your waist. You hummed and nodded before you started to move a little in his lap. You went slow at first while sharing deep, messy kisses. The hair from his beard burned your chin when he pried your mouth open wider, tongues swirling together amongst shared moans.
His big hands spread wide over your ribs, holding you against him to feel as close as possible while you slowly rocked your hips. He finally gave you a chance to breathe and broke the kiss, but then his mouth trailed down your throat and you held your breath anyway when his teeth grazed against the sensitive spot he made a mental note of last time.
"Missed you," he reminded you again as his lips ghosted over your collarbone. "Missed this. Missed feelin' this close to you."
"I know," you gasped, hands grabbing at his shoulders when he mouthed at your breast through your shirt. You started to move faster, encouraged by the delicious sting from his bite. "Fuck, Joel, do that again. Please," you whined.
He smirked and did the same playful bite to your other breast, cock twitching inside you when a low moan slipped past your lips.
"You like that?" he pressed. He loved it when you lost yourself in the moment, too engulfed with pleasure to hold yourself back. When he had you like that, you had no trouble asking for what you wanted. Your polite little filter vanished and you allow yourself to be selfish, to take what you want to make yourself feel good, and his chest puffed with pride every single time that you would choose him to be vulnerable with. You chose him to seek out everything you desired. You trusted him.
"Yes, Joel," you rasped. Your head was tipped backwards and your eyes had slid shut as you began to bounce faster on his lap. "Yes, Joel, I love it. I love it. Fuck, you feel so good. I can't - ah! - Christ, Joel, I love you-"
Time stood still with your words sitting heavy in the air. It took you a few seconds to realize what you said, then your eyes snapped open and you slapped a hand across your mouth in shock, hips freezing mid-air.
"I'm sorry," you mumbled, staring down at his surprised expression. "I didn't mean for that to be the first time-"
"But you did mean it?" he asked, stopping your muffled ramblings. Slowly, you nodded with watery eyes. He yanked your hand off your mouth and pulled you down for a searing kiss.
"I love you, too," he whispered happily against your mouth. His hips began to rock up into you, encouraging you to move with his hands firmly on your waist. "Keep going. Want you to come for me," he said with a grunt, lips still hovering centimeters away from yours. You nodded and began to move again, chasing the release you were moments away from tasting before you had panicked and stopped.
"C'mon, make yourself feel good. Take what you need, baby," he groaned when you bounced faster, breasts swaying underneath your shirt right in front of his face, teasing him. He lunged forward and pinched your nipple between his teeth right when his thumb began to work quick circles over your clit. You cried out his name, fingers clawing at his shoulders until he finally heard that content little broken moan and your release slowly trickled down his cock.
"Shit - gonna come," he growled. His hand left your clit so he could wrap both arms tightly around your middle, using you for leverage as he roughly fucked up into you. You had sagged forward, head resting on his shoulder while placing sweet kisses against his throat. You heard his harsh pants for air in your ear and smiled at the soft noises he made right before he stilled with a loud groan, pumping you full of his seed until his shoulders relaxed and he leaned back tiredly against the couch.
Your hand snaked around the back of his neck, turning his face towards you for a lazy kiss before whispering I love you one more time.
"I love you so goddamn much," he sighed, making you giggle. You pushed yourself up with a sigh, feeling groggy and satiated. You were in the middle of lovingly tracing the creases next to his eyes while he gazed up at you when the timer on the stove went off. You both groaned, neither of you ready to pull apart just yet, but the last thing you wanted was the smell of burnt lasagna permeating the house for the rest of the evening. With a gasp, you lifted yourself from his lap and turned to hunt for your panties on shaky legs.
"Go clean up, I got it," Joel said, standing and pulling his jeans up the rest of the way. You nodded and waddled towards the bathroom with your clothes while he tended to your dinner in the kitchen.
"So, you're comin' by the site tomorrow?" Joel confirmed around a mouthful of food. You nodded, only half listening to the television, your brain still blissfully quiet from earlier.
"Yep. Then after I'm meeting with this woman from the paper. They want to run a small piece on the truck, talk about the viral stuff, all that."
"My girl's gonna be in the paper?" Joel asked excitedly. You laughed, wanting to tease him for being one of the few people who still read an actual newspaper, but his support for you and your dream was so sweet that you didn't want to ruin it.
"Yep. Maybe even a picture, too."
"Well, damn. Look at you," Joel said softly, and you smiled at the tender look in his eye. "Gonna be famous. Can't wait to frame it. I'mma put one in my office at work and one here," he told you matter of factly. He pointed to the mantle, currently adorned with garland and christmas lights, where an old picture of him, Sarah and Mia sat, along with a picture of Tommy and Maria from their wedding day.
"I get to be on the mantle?" you asked excitedly.
"'Course you do. Woulda been up there sooner if we ever took a decent picture together."
"We take tons of pictures together," you began, but he quickly waved you off.
"And in all of 'em I look like shit."
"You do not! You look better than me most of the time with that goddamn smirk of yours," you teased, pinching his side when you added, "and you've lost almost twenty pounds."
Joel just laughed and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, taking your plate and stacking it with his before turning his attention towards the television. His thumb drew mindless circles over your arm and you listened to the peaceful, steady beat of his heart with your ear pressed against his chest.
Closing your eyes, you breathed deep and thought back on your life from the past several months. You had some curveballs thrown at you, sure, but given the circumstances, you were pretty damn happy with where you ended up: curled up next to the man you loved, listening to him mumble the wrong answers to Jeopardy amongst the twinkling lights from the Christmas tree.
"Howdy, girls!"
"Hey, Uncle Tommy!" Sarah called down from the window of the food truck. He grinned at her crooked black cap stitched with your company's name and logo on the front. Wild little pieces of hair stuck out from underneath, framing her face which was dusted with flour.
"Looks like you're workin' hard," he said, waving when he spotted you hurrying by behind her.
"It's crazy busy! We've been moving non-stop since we parked!" she exclaimed.
"Well, get ready, 'cause I just brought twenty hungry construction workers," he replied while jutting his chin down the sidewalk where his crew had been carefully walking around piles of snow that had been packed down and pushed around by the feet of holiday shoppers.
"Good timing, 'cause we just got through the lunch rush," she said before straightening up and turning to you and Ellie. "Hey, guys - my dad and his crew are on their way! Want me to drop some chicken in the fryer?"
"Yeah, toss in a tray of breasts and a tray of tenders to get us started," you said, wiping your hands on your apron before turning to Ellie. "And-"
"Yeah, I know, I got the bread out of the oven already."
You grinned and turned to give the three soups of the day a quick stir and did a quick check on the stock of paper products, confirming you were in a good enough spot to take on another wave of business when you heard a woman's voice call your name from the sidewalk, stopping you in your tracks. When you saw it was the reporter you had promised to meet with for the write up she was going to put in the paper, you felt your heart sink.
"Carmen, hi! We're getting another rush, I'm so sorry!" you said while leaning through the window to shake her hand. "Can I get like, twenty minutes?"
"Of course!" Carmen replied. "I have some shopping to do anyway, take your time."
You were in the middle of expressing your thanks when the truck was suddenly bombarded with Joel and Tommy's crew, their deep voices laughing and talking over one another while Ellie began to take some orders at the register. Before you got back to work, you spotted Joel and excitedly waved him over.
"Hey," you grinned as you practically hung half your body out of the window to grab his face and pull him in. He chuckled and leaned up to kiss you, his cold lips pressing against yours and urging them apart so he could slip his tongue inside your mouth.
"Hey! People are tryin' to eat!" Tommy laughed while playfully swatting at Joel's shoulder. You both laughed and pulled apart, too giddy and love drunk on each other to care.
"You're cold," you said after you pulled yourself back inside the truck. "Do you want some coffee?"
"Yes, please," Joel replied, eyes glittering with pride as he watched you move around the truck. When you stretched forward to hand him the cup, you winked and said, "On the house."
"How's the job going?" you asked as you worked on slicing up the bread Ellie had pulled from the oven. Tickets fluttered in front of you and Sarah gave Joel a big smile and wave when she dropped off chicken fresh from the fryer.
"Alright. Glad we're workin' inside today but place ain't rigged for heat yet so we're makin' do," he replied, taking a sip from his cup. "How's business?" he asked, nodding towards the truck. His eyes drifted fondly over the front where you had printed out the menu in huge letters. Every time he saw his daughter's or his wife's names, his throat tightened. You didn't have to name dishes after them, but you did. Practically insisted on it. It made him emotional back then and it continued to make him emotional whenever he saw it.
"Great! I was hoping to capitalize on holiday foot traffic and boy, did I."
Your eyes were glued to your work, chopping and slicing, making sandwiches and wrapping them in paper while scooping out soup from the huge vats behind you and bagging everything with ease.
You were in your element. This was what you were meant to do.
"Joel! Did you order yet or what?" Ellie called from the register.
"He always gets the same thing," Sarah reminded her with a playful hip check. Ellie rolled her eyes and stifled her grin.
"Oh, yeah, duh. You," she said, narrowing her eyes in your direction. You felt your cheeks warm and you smiled but kept your focus on your work.
"You don't always have to order my sandwich, you know," you teased him.
"Now how can you blame me when you taste so damn good?" Joel smirked from the sidewalk, instantly eliciting a groan of disgust from each of the girls.
"He means the sandwich!" you laughed, feeling all flustered and praying your embarrassment didn't show.
"Do I?"
"Joel!" you hissed with wide eyes as Sarah called him gross and Ellie covered her ears. He threw back his head and laughed while you shook your head with a permanent smile stretched across your face.
This is true happiness, you thought. This feeling could never be topped.
Once Joel and his crew ate and slowly disappeared back down the street towards the storefront they were working on, you washed your hands and checked your reflection before stepping out of the truck with your coat draped over your arm. You glanced around the now mildly crowded street, searching for Carmen and smiling when you locked eyes with her a few doors down carrying a couple shopping bags.
"Perfect timing," you said when she was within hearing range. "Thanks again. My boyfriend is working around the corner and brought his entire crew."
"No apology necessary," she replied warmly, then glanced around with a shiver. "Mind if we pop into this coffee shop? Shouldn't take more than half an hour."
You happily agreed and followed her inside the warm café, breathing in deep the scent of cinnamon and smiling to yourself when you heard the faint sound of Christmas carols filtering through the speakers.
Carmen wasted no time. She dove right in, asking you how you came up with the idea for the food truck and then segueing right into the viral video Ellie and Sarah created that got you such a cult following. You explained that Ellie was a friend, leaving out how you met for her own privacy, and how Sarah was Joel's daughter.
"I'm noticing these names are familiar," Carmen said with a smile.
"Yeah, I named sandwiches after important people in my life. It felt like a sweet way to honor them and express my gratitude," you explained. Carmen hummed and reviewed her notes, phone recording quietly on the table between you.
"May I ask, then, who are Mia and Daniel?"
You cleared your throat and gave her a brave smile.
"They're no longer with us," you began. Softly, Carmen murmured, oh, I'm sorry, while scribbling something on her notepad. "It's okay. Daniel was my fiancé. He passed away over a year ago from a car accident. And Mia was Sarah's mom."
Carmen nodded thoughtfully as she continued to write.
"Oh, so you knew Sarah's mom, too?"
"Well, no," you said, "but based on how much Sarah and Joel have told me, it feels like I've met her."
"That's sweet," Carmen said, letting her pen drop on her notepad. "And these sandwiches - do they reflect anything significant about the people they're named after?"
"They do," you replied while straightening in your chair. "I tried to make the sandwiches based on each person's preference. For instance, Mia loved spice, so hers is a fried spicy chicken sandwich with chipotle mayo. Which I find hilarious because neither Joel or Sarah can handle any amount of spice," you said with a soft laugh.
Carmen nodded and laced her fingers together.
"And how about the sandwich named after you?"
"Well, that was the very first one we created and decided should be on the menu," you said. "I hadn't even thought about names yet but the girls convinced me I should name it after myself and I guess they've got a knack for persuasion."
Carmen laughed and you felt your shoulders relax a bit, not even realizing you were tense until that very moment.
"Well, it's incredible, I must say. I was sneaky last week and got one for myself when you were out on Brunswick."
You gasped, feigning dismay and making her laugh.
"Thank you, I'm so happy to hear that," you replied with a wide smile. "It happens to be my boyfriend's favorite, too."
"Joel doesn't order The Joel?" she asked, cocking her eyebrow.
You shook your head and tried to forget his earlier comment when you said, "Guess not. But he helped design The Joel. In fact, he also helped with The Mia. Sarah did, as well."
"That's so lovely to hear," Carmen said softly, pressing her lips together and leaning forward. "I think it's such a wonderful detail, by the way. How the two of you came from relationships that ended in tragedy and managed to find peace and happiness with one another. And to honor your partners in this way is incredible."
"Thank you," you answered. Your chest warmed at her compliment. "Even though I never met Mia, she was important to the people I love the most, and therefore, she's important to me. Joel and Sarah feel the same about Daniel. Grief is a complicated thing, but I like to think I've found a way to live beside it."
Carmen smiled and dropped her gaze to the table. "That's so comforting and reassuring to hear. And an incredible quote to leave me with because it looks like our time is up."
"Quote?" you asked with a tilt to your head.
"I usually like to run a quote from my subject as my byline," Carmen said while she packed up her things. She began to stand and you stopped her.
"Wait - could I give you something else to put as your byline instead?"
She grinned and sat back down before pulling out her phone and pressing a button.
"Of course."
One Week Later
"You nervous 'bout your mama comin' up?" Joel asked, tugging you closer to his side as you walked up the snowy sidewalk.
"A little," you admitted. "But whatever she ends up thinking doesn't matter. I love you, Joel," you said, tilting your chin up to meet his eye. "I love you and nothing is ever going to change that."
He smiled and gave your lips a quick peck as you rounded the corner, closing in on the nearest grocery store.
"Well, back in my day, I used to be a big hit with a girl's parents."
"Oh, yeah?" you teased.
"Yep. They all loved me. I'm real respectful, you'll see."
You wanted to tell him to just be himself and to not stress about your mother's visit, but you knew there was no use. He was going to do everything possible to win your mother over and while you found it admirable he cared so much, you didn't want him to feel like he needed to make your parents come around. In your several talks with Ryan in therapy, you had come to the conclusion that nobody's approval was needed for you to be happy. It would be nice, sure. It would make holidays and special occasions easier. But nothing was going to change anything between you and Joel.
"Alright, now. Here we go," Joel said excitedly when the automatic doors slid open and you were met with a blast of warm air. You grinned and squeezed his arm while letting him drag you towards the newspapers and magazines. You both scanned the rows of periodicals before Joel spotted it first and grabbed the whole stack. He handed you the extras and eagerly flipped through the pages of the one on top before he paused with a slow smile.
"What? How does it look? What picture did she-"
You cut yourself short when you peered over his shoulder. Your breath hitched and you caught Joel's eye before looking back at the page.
Unbeknownst to you, Carmen and grabbed a quick shot of you leaning out of the food truck to kiss Joel. You were both smiling as snow lightly fell around you, the background highlighted by twinkling Christmas lights and laughing holiday shoppers. It looked like a photograph straight out of a movie: two people finding a quick moment for love in the midst of a busy street.
"You think that's a good enough picture of the two of us?" you asked, looking up at him adoringly, but his focus was on the byline. His eyes kept scanning the words over and over until you swore you saw tears begin to cloud his vision.
"You like it?" you found yourself whispering. He swallowed and nodded, bottom lip quivering before he let the paper drop to his side so he could cup your jaw and pull you in for a kiss.
"I love you," he murmured.
"I love you, too," you said softly against his lips. He gave you one more kiss before he sniffled and opened the paper again so he could reread the words:
This was all made possible because of Daniel, who taught me what true love is, and because of Joel, who showed me love during my darkest days - I owe you everything.
Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️
#joel miller fanfic#joel miller tlou#joel miller x reader#comfort Joel#joel tlou#joel x reader#joel the last of us#the last of us au#joel miller au#joel miller angst#Joel miller grief#the last of us angst#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller fanfiction#evergreen fic#joel miller smut
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I really like how they handled the dialogue whenever Stolas talked about the privileged things he's used to but obviously can't have anymore now.
Like when he and Blitz talked about the food. The scene's tone appropriately conveys that Stolas is coming from a place of privilege, but not only are he and Blitz aware of that, the execution never says that Stolas RIGHT NOW is ignorant and spoiled. He is merely naming the food he was used to all his life cause that's all he CAN say in that moment. It's all he knows and both the scene and the characters know it too.
Both Stolas and Blitz are open and willing to figure out how and where to meet in the middle. Blitz isn't blaming Stolas for naming expensive food, he just clarifies that it is too expensive now so Stolas can keep on thinking about other options that are affordable and once Stolas says something doable Blitz goes with it.
That's how you handle situations like that. Both parties can't magically know what is needed and manageable, but you can make the best out of the situation through open communication and not shaming the other people once both your life styles clash
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Couple weeks ago my friend sent me a link to @vaspider shop with their promotion for a buy one get one free on hot/cold packs:
Razz loves to spread the word about shops they buy from, especially small businesses or shops owned and operated by queer people. I did not need a popcorn scented heat pack, so I did not buy anything, but they did.
Tonight I got these messages: 

Emails, you say? Let’s see…
I just want you guys to know that this last line, “after this interaction I can no longer in good conscience promote your work or buy from you,” is akin to burning your crops and salting your fields coming from Razz. They are the most polite person I know. They do not want to stir up trouble. Part of it is because, as a blind person, they have had to learn to be non-confrontational in order to protect themselves, but it’s also because Razz is just genuinely a kind hearted and understanding person.
They live off of disability and occasional commissions, but they use what little money they have to support small businesses and independent artists because they appreciate the quality as well as the work that goes into each item. You can see here that Raz was trying to figure out if it was a genuine misunderstanding on their part because they hadn’t read the site correctly.
They were not able to read the site correctly because they’re blind.
This isn’t really about a misunderstanding, or Razz wanting to get the other item. It’s about Vaspider immediately treating them with contempt when Razz sent an email asking what had gone wrong. Is it the businesses responsibility to eat the cost of shipping due to someone not being able to understand the terms of the sale? It’s certainly good business practice, but I think Razz would have understood if they had been told that it would cost the store too much for another item to be sent if Vaspider hadn’t been such an asshole about it.
Razz is, unfortunately, used to disappointment. They are used to having to struggle to navigate websites that are not made with people like them in mind. They are even, at this point, used to having to lose money on things due to brain damage suffered from being forced into a botched medical procedure last year. But that isn’t how they opened this conversation. They opened with, “I think something may have gone wrong, can you help me understand what happened? “
The way Vaspider treated my friend is disgusting. I hope that those of you reading this will take Vaspiders behavior in this exchange into account when you’re deciding where to spend your money. The next time that you see one of their posts, a link to their store, or receive an email about a sale, I hope that you remember these emails and recall how Vaspider treats people that they don’t think are important. I want you to think about whether the group of people that Vaspider considers to be worthless might include you. 
I know that there are a lot of people willing to come to Vaspiders defense because they’re well-known and popular. They are so well-known and popular that they’re willing to treat one of their customers like garbage over $10 in shipping, and they’re willing to do it right out in the open for everyone to see.
Happy holidays, and eat a big old bag of dicks. 
Let’s fucking go.
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(Just reblogging straight cause I'm lazy)
Castle. I got it from the comedy-drama series (which also happens to feature Nathan Fillion, voice of Cayde-6). Where Nocturne got that name we don't know.
The Impasse, Cosmodrome
10 years prior to present game (start of D1)
Prismatic (SoF/Dive/Needle/Coldsnap), usually with the Last Word, Lubrae's Ruin, and Ascendancy
Confusion, then a mix of anger and depression over losing the memory of who he was
Nope
They've overheard fragments from Corsairs and even pieced things together from rumours in the Last City, but that's it. Mostly he has his dog tags from his time in the military prior to the Collapse
Loner, but will join fireteams when necessary
Dredgen, mostly due to disillusionment with everything going on and not really believing the Vanguard had everyone's best interests at heart (especially in regards to the "forget your past" thing)
It's literally just a force. It's tied to the intangible rather than the tangible, and it looks bad because bad people get ahold of it (not because it's inherently evil)
It's complicated. On one hand, he's alive again. On the other... He's alive again. Because of the Traveller. Also, his appearance has been so fundamentally changed by the Traveller that he struggles recognising his reflection, so he's extremely resentful.
Again, it's complicated, although that's because Nocturne is stubborn and easily irritated when he's tired. Most of the bitterness and disdain he points towards Castle is out of resentment for the Traveller.
Voluntold. He was kinda pressed into it, and to be honest he didn't exactly have anywhere else to go at the time.
Oof... There's a lot of possibilities, but JUST to make Nocturne suffer I'm gonna go with a close friend of his who was called Ciel, who was killed by someone called Dredgen Hereward during the Red War (I kinda want to write a fic where Nocturne actually teams up with Shin to deal with him, but that's another story altogether?
The Dawning, because collecting ingredients is the closest thing to "time off" he gets. Or takes, for that matter.
Haha what's off duty He goes off to help Banshee when he can, but if he doesn't need help he'll probably be reading.
Sometimes? Not often though. Most of the time he interacts with civilians they come up to him
It varies
Repair kit, a bracelet from Ellis (you didn't think he'd leave it forgotten in his vault, did you?), and a backup radio in case the Comms he built into his helmet get jammed.
Plenty, though the main thing is how much he's figured out about his past.
While he claims he doesn't care about anyone, Nocturne is very much a "guard dog" to people he likes (arguably he can be a bit of an attack dog too if he feels the need to be one). This has led to MULTIPLE plans to delete the Spider from the face of existence, and the only thing stopping him from carrying any of them out is A) he's still considered useful and B) Drifter, Crow, and Eido begging him not to because of point A
20 Questions prompt list for Guardians! Download, yoink and repost away, add images of you like, tag me if you want cause I love hearing about everyone's guardians! ❤️
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Greetings, could we please get more of "My Favorite Accident"?
I really love this fanfic!!!
Sure!
My Favorite Accident Pt 6
TFP Knockout x Reader
• “You’re scaring off the business.” Scowling at you as you wash glasses, you just arch your brows at him. And yeah, he has a point with that look. The guy that had been hurling in a bush when you’d arrived had wandered inside and fell asleep, head on the bar, his toupee long since in the floor, looking like a dead squirrel. And he’s the only holdout, your two other drunks having wandered back home. Or at least somewhere else. For all you know, they’re passed out outside in the gravel, but as long as they’re outside, they’re not your problem.
• “I keep waiting for you to explain the joke,” he mutters, his patience slowly fraying watching you go about your ‘job.’ Because at this point, he’s more angry than anything else. And this has to be a joke, one that’s already run far too long. It’s insulting that you work here. Part of him wanted to just leave you here to figure out your own way home, but he’d stayed out of morbid curiosity and because, after defending you from being groped three times, he’d realized you’re too oblivious to survive without someone watching over you. Feeling someone pinging him, he growls.
• “Bills are no joke,” you say, banging a glass on the bar hard enough that the remaining patron nearly falls off his stool when he startles awake. “Last call.” Tone all saccharine sweetness as he blearily looks around and then struggles to get down and get to the door, legs spread like a man trying to keep his footing on a heaving deck in rough waters. He’s definitely going to go water those poor, dead azaleas again, chunky style. “So, mind explaining why you camped at my home and then stayed here all day? I’m assuming you have some important, secret alien robot agenda. You know, something better to do than slum it with me?”
• “You have no idea,” he grumbles, hesitating as that ping comes again. Dividing his attention between the holomatter avatar and his real body, he hears your disgruntled ‘are you kidding me right now’ as the avatar gets glitchy. And half listening to your tantrum, he answers the ping. “Where are you? Megatron’s hunting for you,” Breakdown’s voice growls at him and he shifts on his shocks. Because if the big boss is on the warpath and needs something, he can’t be kept waiting. Or he’ll take it out on his hide with his big fists.
• Watching him have a conversation with himself, that weird, expressionless avatar staring with dead eyes at nothing. Creepy. Still can’t figure out why he’d hung out with you when he really must have better things to do. You don’t think it’s that he’s lonely. Only that he’s decided you need him to watch after you, though how he’d reached that conclusion, you’re not sure. You’ve done fine on your own for years. You’ll be fine after he gets bored of messing with you.
• “Stall,” he says. “I’m coming.” Aware that he and the avatar are both saying the words when you lean away from him, frowning and he ends the communication. “Sorry, but you’re going to have to find a different ride home. Try not to die while I’m gone,” he adds, glancing around to make sure there’s only the two of you in the bar before letting go of the avatar, hearing you screech about security cameras before he goes. You’ll be fine. After he pacifies Lord Megatron, he can come back. Make sure.
Previous
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Best laid plans
notes: this prompt, a bojere kiss under the mistletoe, was originally sent to @frikatilhi who set it free and tipped me off. tilhi's idea of where to go with the prompt was so delicious i kind of stole that too, so all hail tilhi for the original idea! this got quite long so under the cut it goes.
As soon as Bojan saunters off into the backroom of their rehearsal studio with Jere, Jure jumps into action. Jere has been in Slovenia for nearly a week now, Bojan has made zero progress in confessing his love for the man, and Jure is getting tired of the situation. Something needs to change and he has the power to kick start that change.
"Psst! Guys, guys. Look what I got", he whispers dramatically and whips out the secret treasure.
Jan, Kris and Nace gather around, looking at him and his offering curiously.
They stare at it in silence for a good while.
"A.. twig of some sort?" Nace declares.
Jan sighs and shakes his head.
"Jure you really can't resent us for calling you a cat if you keep dragging random twigs and leaves in from your nature adventures and expect us to find them exciting", he tuts, Kris nodding along.
Jure feels like slapping them but he controls himself.
"No, you absolute waffles, it's a mistletoe", he snaps, waving the precious find in front of his bandmates.
"Ohhhh, right."
"Right, a mistletoe."
"Of course."
"But.. why?" Kris dares to ask, Jan and Nace gesturing wildly to indicate they had the same question.
Jure cannot believe how slow and, frankly, idiotic people he has chosen to spend all his time with.
"The Christmas thing? Kissing under a mistletoe?" he says, holding the twig in question above his head and makes a kissy face.
"Right, like in the movies", Nace knows.
Now they're getting it, Jure is sure.
"Exactly", Jure confirms.
"And..?" Jan asks.
So, they are not getting it.
"Isn't it obvious? We get Jere and Bojan under it and BAM they have to face their feelings for each other", Jure whisper shouts, only just managing to keep his excitement from bubbling over.
As if on cue, Bojan and Jere burst into a giggle fit in the other room.
Realisation lights three faces in front of Jure.
"Now you're talking! I like this idea", Nace whoops.
"Could work! And they need the help", Kris agrees.
"Bojan is unbearable", Jan shakes his head.
"And having Jere here, around the holidays.. it's been extra unbearable," Kris continues, clearly haunted by the past week. Bojan and Jere have been practically glued together since Jere landed, and they never stop laughing. Neither one of them is that funny, of that they can all be sure, but the boys in the band have long realised that the constant giggle fits are just an excuse for the two to touch each other - how they figured that platonic friendly laughter comes with caressing each others faces and bodies is beyond any other Joker Out member, but they've had to accept the fact that Bojan and Jere are two members of the same species that have found each other against all odds and this is simply part of their mating rituals.
Mating rituals that are starting to turn into a never ending nightmare for everyone else that needs to stop. Now, if it's up to Jure. And it is, he decides.
"Is the mistletoe a thing in Finland?" Nace asks.
Jure stops.
"I don't know? But surely they'll get it, right?"
They must get it. Everyone knows the mistletoe, right? Except Kris, Jan and Nace who did not recognise it, but that's because they are stupid idiots, unlike Jure. And hopefully Bojan and Jere. Which might be a lot to ask.
"Bojan has definitely seen enough romantic movies to get it", Kris says, with the voice of a man who has been in the trenches. Jan pats him on the back as the band holds a moment of silence for the sacrifices Kris has made as the roommate of a man desperately in love with his best friend.
"So we're doing this?" Jure asks after an appropriate time of respecting Kris' struggle.
"We're doing this."
🩵
Snow dances in the air as Bojan and Jere make their way towards the Joker Out studio only a couple of nights before Christmas.
"You guys have so many Christmas parties", Jere chuckles, looking at Bojan with his big bright eyes that make him want to drop down on one knee (or two) right there and then.
Bojan has to look away. The whole week with Jere has been simultaneously the best and the worst week of his life. Having Jere near him makes it easier to breathe. Jere makes colours brighter, sounds clearer and flavours tastier.
Jere also makes Bojan incredibly horny, and nights lying next to Jere (who is as shirtless asleep as he is awake) trying to hide his rock hard boner count towards the list of things that have made the week almost unbearable.
"Yeah I didn't know about this one either!" Bojan laughs, and it's true. They guys had very mysteriously invited him and Jere for "A Special Celebration" only the night before.
"Seems like the guys wanted to throw you a special Christmas party and decided to leave me out of the loop, too."
Jere giggles, which to Bojan sounds like a choir of angels and the gates of heaven opening.
"They know you. They know if Bojan know, Jere find out", Jere says, and quickly brushes his hand against Bojan's arm.
Bojan pretends to be offended by the words and unaffected by the touch that actually sends his mind into overdrive. He clutches his chest dramatically, which sells the offense and calms his racing heart.
"Heey, that's not- nah, who am I kidding, it's true", he laughs, as Jere practically keels over in laughter. Bojan knows he's nowhere near as funny as Jere likes to act, but he cannot help but fall just a little bit deeper for the man every time he laughs at whatever it is Bojan has said. Jere is sweet like that, always hyping up his friends.
The laughter fades but the bright smile stays, as once again Jere turns those sparkly eyes to Bojan.
"But Bojan, I have to say. I'm so happy. Best decision coming to Slovenia this Christmas. Joker boys and you are so nice to me."
Jere stops and grabs Bojan's hand. For a fleeting moment they both just look at their joint hands, until Jere makes a show of hugging Bojan's arm to his chest like a cuddly toy, giggling happily as he does. Bojan wonders if Jere can feel his racing pulse.
"Jere, we've loved having you here. I- I've really loved having you here", he whispers, out of breath for reasons he cannot understand, but might have to do with his heart trying to leave his body.
Jere drops Bojan's arm but does not let go of his hand. The giggle has once again died down and been replaced with the softest, most sincere smile Bojan has ever had the pleasure of witnessing.
"I love being here. With you", Jere says quietly and looks at Bojan, almost expectantly.
Bojan's mouth feels dry. Sweet innocent Jere doesn't realise what his eyes can do to a man.
Bojan has no idea what Jere expects him to say, but has to say something.
"You, uh. You have snow on your eyelashes", he manages to breathe out.
"I look pretty?" Jere asks, batting his eyes at Bojan with yet another soft giggle that makes Bojan's knees buckle. He needs to get a grip.
"Hah, uh. Yeah! So pretty, pretty like a princess," he laughs, desperately.
Jere smiles, once again so damn sincere.
"Thank you Bojan. We go inside and see if princess find prince at party?" Jere tugs at Bojan's hand.
Bojan chuckles.
"I'm afraid this party is all toads, Jere. Five toads and a princess."
🩵
"Bojan?" Jere whispers as they are throwing their coats on the pile of four other coats in the corner. The studio has been quite haphazardly decorated with Christmas ornaments, and there is faint jazzy Christmas music playing to set the mood.
"Yes? Why are we whispering?" Bojan replies but takes the whispering as an excellent excuse to lean closer, until he can feel Jere's breath on his neck. It gives him goosebumps.
"I have.. sensitive question. I don't want sound rude", Jere says, looking worried.
"O-okay?" Bojan whispers, confused, and grabs Jere's hand. To ease his worries, of course.
Jere lowers his voice even more.
"Why is there some twig taped to door to back room?"
Bojan is one thousand percent sure he did not hear that right.
"Huh?" is all he gets out.
"There, look. Up, on top of door", Jere whispers, nervously, as he points above the backroom door.
And sure enough, there is something green taped to the wall near the ceiling.
It takes Bojan, a connoisseur of romantic comedies, approximately 0.76 seconds to realise that, number one, it's a mistletoe, and number two, the boys are up to something. Probably something to do with him and Jere. He knows they know. He knows he's obvious. He cannot help it.
"Oh. Oh. That's - that's the guys being.. them again, don't worry about it", he stammers, his only relief being that Jere is clearly not as well versed in American romantic customs as he is.
Jere lets out a breath, looking relieved, squeezing Bojan's hand.
"Okei. I think maybe its Slovenia thing and I'm rude if I don't know", he laughs.
Bojan shakes his head.
"It's definitely not a Slovenian thing. This is a Jure, Jan, Kris and Nace thing", he reassures.
"Okei, good", Jere giggles, pulling Bojan with him to yet another fit of hysterics over nothing at all.
There's a clang in the backroom and three voices shushing.
"Bojan, Jere? Is that you guys?" Jan's voice calls.
"We can hear you!" Kris adds.
"Why don't you guys.. Why don't you come in?" Jure says in a voice that Bojan immediately recognises as trouble.
"Yeah, Bojan why don't you show Jere in, show him our back room," Nace adds, failing miserably at sounding casual, not least because Jere has been in the back room multiple times by now.
Bojan is not going to let them ambush Jere into an embarrassing moment, no. He will protect Jere from the antics of his horrible bandmates and their childish sense of humour.
And also maybe protect his own heart in the process, because he's not sure he could survive a kiss that leads nowhere. Getting a taste of his dream, only to go back to being brrraders? He is sure he could actually die and become the talk of the medical world. "Man dies of brozoning", now there's a headline.
But mostly, of course, it's about protecting Jere from his awful, terrible, horrible bandmates.
"Jere, go on in. I need the bathroom, I'll be right there," he pats Jere on the back and heads in the opposite direction.
"Okei!"
Jere steps into the room only to be met with four excited grins that fall as soon as he stops.
"Hi guys!" Jere greets, trying to ignore the suddenly confused faces.
"Where's Bojan?" Jure asks, alarmed.
"Toilet", Jere explains.
All four guys deflate, disappointed.
"Damn", Jan sighs.
Jere is starting to feel a bit offended.
"Why..?" he starts, knowing he sounds a bit hurt.
The guys seem to realise this too, as they hurry to school their faces back into friendly expressions.
"No reason! What would you like to drink?" Jure asks as he pulls Jere in by the shoulders.
Jere starts to relax.
"I think you maybe don't have glögi", he laughs.
The guys look at each other, clearly pleased with themselves.
"Funny you should mention!" Jure can't hide the grin that takes over his face.
"We knew it's your favourite -" Nace starts.
"Because Bojan keeps telling us", Kris interrupts, rolling his eyes.
"So we looked it up -" Jan continues.
"And thought we could probably make something like that!" Nace concludes.
"Sooooo, come taste the brand new Joker Out Glu- glonki?" Jure declares, holding bottles of red liquid in both hands.
"Glönki," Nace tries.
"Glöggi," Jan corrects.
"It's glögi. And thank you guys, you are.. really, my brothers", Jere says, hand over his heart, getting a choir of awws in return.
"Anything for you, Jere. Come taste!" Jure beckons and they all gather around the table covered in glasses and bottles.
"A generous pour for the man of the hour, there we go", Jan declares as he pours Jere a big glass of their red concoction.
Jere accepts it happily.
"Thank you! This look good, look like real glögi! I taste now, okei."
Jere takes a big gulp of the drink and regrets it immediately, as what must be pure alcohol threatens to burn his throat from the inside.
"Soo, what do you think?" Jure asks, as the guys look at him expectantly.
Jere tries his best not to cough and forces a smile on his face.
"It's - ugh, sori - it's very strong, whoo. What you put in here?" he laughs.
The guys look mischievous.
"Some juice, some spice -" Nace starts.
"Some vodka, you know, the basics of glöggi", Kris concludes.
"Glögi", Jere corrects.
"Glöngi", Jure tries.
"Glögi", Jere demonstrates.
"Glöögi", Jan offers, just as Bojan finally walks in.
"Hey Jerč, trying to teach the guys Finnish?" he says.
Jere spins around, delighted. It's not that he doesn't like the other boys, no. They are his brothers, of course. It's just that, well, he is in love with Bojan, and while he is still trying to figure out if confessing that would lead to happy ever after or losing touch completely, he'll take any moment he gets with Bojan in the meantime.
"Bojan! Joker boys make own glögi for me", he says, showing Bojan his glass.
"Oh did they. How nice of them", Bojan smiles and comes to stand next to Jere, immediately throwing his arm over Jere's shoulders.
Jere is once again hit with the realisation that Bojan is quite possibly the most beautiful human on the planet. It's a realisation that hits him seventeen times a day, on average. Bojan has such a beautiful smile - the way his eyes turn into small crescents makes Jere lightheaded. It's like his eyes are celestial bodies and Bojan himself the universe, and Jere just a small and tiny space traveler, trying to discover the wonders of this universe of his.
"Isn't it, Bojan", Jan's voice shakes Jere out of his thoughts and back into present.
"You're not the only one around here who cares about Jere", Kris says, snarkily. Jere knows they all care about him but there is no reason to be mean to Bojan about it. Bojan is, after all, probably only responding to the attention he gets from Jere. It's Jere who should be more equal. Not that he will.
"We wanted to make him feel at home", Jure explains and that does make Jere feel very grateful.
"So thoughtful! How's the glögi, Jerč?" Bojan asks, pronouncing the word with ease that makes Jere giggle delightedly.
"Bojan language genius, you say glögi perfect! It's.. good. Strong," he says, carefully, taking a tiny sip of his drink.
Bojan's eye roll is epic.
"Right. Of course it is. These toads have a generous pour," he jabs and Jere bursts into hysterics.
"What did you just call us?" Kris asks, appalled.
Bojan waves his hand dismissively.
"An inside joke, you wouldn't get it."
The guys all sigh in unison.
"Oh great, another Bojan and Jere exclusive," Kris says drily.
"Can't wait to hear this one repeated over and over again!" Jan mumbles.
"Well, maybe you deserve it," Bojan smiles and lets go of Jere, much to Jere's dismay.
"Rude," Nace notes, as Bojan saunters past them on to the tiny sofa at the back of the room.
He pats the space next to him and looks at Jere.
"Come Jerč, come sit over here. Let's get cozy."
Jere practically runs to the sofa, parks himself next to Bojan and glues their sides together. Bojan throws his arm around Jere and pulls him close.
For reasons Jere can't quite comprehend, the rest of the guys look extremely put out. They wanted him to feel at home and well, he might not have said it out loud but home is where the heart is, and his heart is with Bojan.
"Janči, pour us a round of that glööni," Kris says, and Jere suspects he said it wrong on purpose.
"You know, it's actually surprisingly tasty," Jure comments sipping the drink with a straw.
🩵
"Guys, emergency meeting!" Jure hisses at the other three guys, pulling them all into a corner of the back room.
"Really Jure, emergency?" Kris asks unimpressed.
Jure gestures at Bojan and Jere, still sitting on the sofa pressed close together, chattering away using voices so low only they can hear, and words only they can understand.
"They've parked their butts on the sofa and haven't moved in damn near an hour. If we want to get them under the mistletoe, we have to do something. Also Janči, do we have more gölni?" Jure whispers.
Jan nods and lifts up a new bottle.
"Yes, give me your glasses. You know, in hindsight placing the mistletoe over the door that leads to the main hangout space really wasn't that smart. What reason would they have to be going in and out?" Jan questions as he fills their glasses.
"I don't know, to get to the bathroom?" Jure shrugs. He doesn't appriciate his methods being questioned.
"Together?" Kris asks.
"I would not be surprised at this point to be honest, if they wanted to hold hands while one of them pees", Nace mumbles.
"You have a point", Kris admits.
"So what do we do?" Jan asks, as they sip away at the glögi.
"We could ask them to go get something? From outside?" Jure suggests, forever the one who has to keep things going.
"Like what?" Kris questions, because that's all he can do, apparently, and Jure is not happy about it.
"Ummm... pinecones?" Jure says.
"Jure. What. Pinecones?" Kris, the question asker asks.
"I don't know, I'm riffing here guys!" Jure whisper shouts frustrated, nearly spilling his precious glögi all over the floor.
Nace sighs and puts his glass down on the table behind him.
"Guys, there is no need to go all the way outside. Let's just get them to the actual studio space. We'll play Christmas songs or something. You know, live music for the party. We are a band, after all," he points out.
The other three stare at Nace. Jure has to hand to him, for once one of the others has a good idea.
"Oh, right. We have instruments", Jan says.
"Yeah, that's.. actually a really good idea, Nace", Kris pats Nace on the back.
Jure takes charge, as he must.
"Right! So now all we have to do is make sure they walk through the doorway together. And preferrably slowly enough to point out the mistletoe", he says, rubbing his hands together.
"That shouldn't be too difficult! Let's go."
🩵
Bojan wonders how long he can keep his hand in Jere's hair before it becomes weird. Jere doesn't seem to mind. Those bright eyes haven't eased up for a minute, and Bojan feels hot. He wonders if Jere can feel it, if his fingers are heating up Jere's scalp.
He still doesn't want to move his hand.
But he needs a distraction.
"So you've enjoyed your time here?" he asks.
"Yes, so much! Slovenia is very beautiful place", Jere smiles.
If Bojan wasn't already completely gone on the man, this moment would surely seal the deal. Something about the way Jere speaks about his home country makes Bojan melt.
"Isn't it? I'm so glad you got to see it", he says quietly.
"Very fitting", Jere muses, still smiling. Bojan is confused.
"What is?"
"Beautiful country, beautiful Bojan. Make sense", Jere says, and turns to look Bojan straight in the eyes.
Bojan's heart skips a beat, or two. Or three. He might be having a heart attack. He takes a sip of his wine. Or maybe a gulp, just to calm himself down.
Sometimes he does have to wonder, if maybe there is a chance Jere likes him back. It's moments like these, when Jere calls him beautiful, or things like my love, my man, fire and water, and other such things Bojan has not heard much in a platonic context before, that make him think that perhaps he has hope.
But then that could just be Jere being Jere. The man who charmed Europe. He is a charmer, after all. So Bojan tells him as much.
"Oh you, you're such a charmer", he says and chuckles, waiting to see how Jere reacts.
Jere giggles, as usual.
"So.. Princess Charming? Princess Charming and five toads?" he laughs, almost spilling his glögi all over the two of them.
"Now that's a movie!" Bojan joins the laughter, relieved for the chance to close his eyes and stop drowning in the blue ocean of Jere's eyes for a second.
"But they are not really toads", Jere sobers up, and puts his hand on Bojan's chest.
Bojan's brain short circuits. As he forces it to reboot and update its firewalls, he manages to respond to Jere in a completely and totally normal, not at all breathy voice.
"No?" he says.
Jere starts patting his chest, timed to his words.
"Not how story go! They are five pretty guys. Maybe one is even prince.." he finishes and drags his hand down Bojan's chest.
Bojan is about to spontaneously combust.
"Oh- " he opens his mouth, but does not get a word out before Jure claps his hand together resulting in a clap that should not be humanly possible.
"OKAY THEN, listen up you couch potatoes!! Next up at the Joker Out Christmas Party... Christmas jamming!" Jure announces excitedly.
"So why don't you make your way through to the studio space -" Nace gestures at the door, as all four guys smile widely at the two men on the sofa.
Bojan knows exactly what's going on. There is no way they are going to trick him and Jere into walking under the mistletoe, no sir! Bojan will protect Jere from these fiends if it's the last thing he does.
"Find a comfy place on the sofa.." Jan is joining Nace in gesturing at the door.
"And enjoy some tunes!" Kris concludes and looks at Bojan, expecting him to get up.
Bojan puts on his best unimpressed face.
"What, we don't get to play?" he asks.
The guys clearly hadn't thought of that.
"Well, Bojan- " Nace starts, but Bojan won't let him finish.
"I wanna see Jere play the drums. Will you play, Jerč?" he turns to Jere, who nods excitedly.
"Sound like fun! Yeah let's play!"
Bojan very smoothly and not at all clumsily starts to detach himself from Jere.
"Great! Jure actually got gifted some pretty cool sticks recently, I'll go find them", he says as he gets up, and quickly makes his way to the door before Jere is even standing up.
Kris tries to step in his way as Nace jumps in to grab his arm.
"No, Bojan, you stay there- no, don't go in there! Ahh, fuck."
Bojan stops right after passing through the doorway and looks at Nace with his best confused face. He is a great actor, after all.
"Huh? What's wrong with you? I'm just gonna go find the sticks, I saw them just the other day, I know where they are", he says and disappears into the studio.
"Right. Of course you do. Well, come on Jere. Let's get to jamming", Kris says as he pulls Jere with him.
🩵
Jure drags his bandmates by their hands back into the backroom.
"Guys!! Emergency meeting two!!!" he hisses and this time slams the door to the studio shut.
"We know, Jure," Kris somehow manages to make his eyeroll audible.
"Good plan, shit execution! All we got was Bojan in Jere's lap on the damn drum kit and 45 minutes of them whispering and giggling, but still no lips on lips action! I have to suggest we go back to pinecones," Jure says sternly, as the guys are clearly not grasping the seriousness of the situation.
"Pinecones was never a plan!! And Jan, drinks," Kris hisses, snapping his fingers at Jan. He misses Jan's murderous glare at the finger snapping.
Jan pours Kris a lot less than everyone else.
"But we have to do something. Look at them. Bojan is mere moments away from officially changing his place of residence to Jere's lap, but all they seem to be able to do is stare at each other, whisper and blush," Jure complains, annoyed at his band mates inability to be as clever and proactive as him.
"What if.. what if we just.. let them be? Get there on their own? I mean you said it yourself, they're practically glued to each other. Maybe tonight is the night they get their shit together," Nace suggests.
Jure doesn't like that and is disappointed in Nace deciding to become lazy. No, Bojan's feelings are too big and too important to the very existence of the band, for Jure to let Bojan be in charge of them.
"Maybe it is, but more importantly, maybe it isn't. And then what?! We let them imprint on each other like ducklings in love when neither of them has the guts to do anything about it, and then Jere fucks off back to the Arctic fucking circle and we're left here with a wounded duckling whose whole world just left on a plane?" Jure rants, disappointed that he has to explain such obvious things to these fools.
"That's actually a surprisingly accurate metaphor-" Jan starts.
"Though I do have to point out that I don't think Vantaa is quite within the Arctic circle," Kris quips.
Jure doesn't have time for either of them.
"Not the point! It's fucking far away! And we can't let him leave without Bojan getting that life saving kiss first," he explains.
"So what do we do?" Nace asks.
Jure has just the plan.
"Well first of all, Jan, pour some more drinks. Second of all.. I think it's time to move that mistletoe."
🩵
Bojan has to say something. He is practically in Jere's lap, their legs entwined, he cannot just keep staring at the mans mouth. Jere must have noticed, and it's probably getting weird now.
"Jere, you, uhh.. you've got some chocolate on your face", Bojan says, gesturing towards Jere's mouth.
Jere raises his fingers to his lips, which definitely does something to Bojan's heart. And dick.
"Where? Always so clumsy",Jere mumbles as he feels around his mouth.
Bojan would very much like to close the gap between them and lick the chocolate away. And then keep going from there. Maybe lick the inside of Jere's mouth.. his neck.. his chest.. down his stomach.. towards -
No! Not the time, not the place. He will pick up from here in the shower tonight, but for now, he needs to get a grip.
"Right, uh, there." Bojan reaches as close to Jere's face as he dares.
Jere's eyes snap up to look at him.
"Can you get it?" he asks, softly.
Bojan makes a mental note of getting his heart checked out because it's starting to feel out of control. He also sternly tells his dick to stand down.
"I don't really have anything to get it with.." he whispers.
Jere holds up one finger and Bojan fights the urge to lick that too.
"Can you take my finger there?" Jere smiles questioningly.
"Yeah, sure, it's uhh.." Bojan grabs Jere's finger and starts guiding it to the elusive smear of chocolate.
"Here", he breathes and places Jere's finger on the spot.
Jere wipes at it and looks at Bojan.
"I get it?"
Bojan shakes his head amused.
"Not quite, you kind of smudged it-" he starts but Jere interrupts.
"Help me?"
Bojan didn't know it was possible to actually do the pleading eyes emoji in real life. He realises that he would do anything Jere asked him to. Anything.
"Yeah, let me just-" Bojan starts, when a loud yelp and a soft thud startle him enough to jump.
Jere is equally startled and looking around.
Their eyes land on the scene at the same time.
Nace, on the floor on all fours, Kris half on top of him, half on the floor like a ragdoll, with Jure and Jan standing on each side of Nace, frozen with their hands still up in the air, as if they were supporting an invisible weight up.
"Watafak."
"Kris?! Guys what the hell?!!" Bojan jumps up.
Nace is the first one to snap out of it.
"Kris get off me and help me up."
Kris starts to move, whining as he does.
"Guys what is going on?" Bojan demands.
Jure hurries to help Kris up and turns to Bojan.
"Nothing Bojan, nothing is going on, you- you keep Jere company we just have to.. yeah, don't worry about it", he says as he starts ushering the guys into the backroom.
"Why was Kris standing on your back, Nace?" Bojan calls after them, but Jure waves at him dismissively.
"No reason, and he's fine, he didn't fall too badly."
"My ankle..." Kris whines as he limps to sit down.
"You're fine, Krisko. Anyway! Nothing to see here, we'll be right back", Jure says as he disappears in the back and pulls the door closed.
Kris is not happy.
"And whose fucking bright idea was it to try and stick the mistletoe to the ceiling?! And Jan, drinks!" he snaps, and Jan must take pity on his ordeal as he only sticks his tongue out at Kris behind his back.
"It could have worked, I know it. Mistletoe on the ceiling, get them to dance, and BAM..it was going to work", Jure defends his plan.
"Well it didn't", Nace says dryly and Jure thinks that maybe Nace should be coming up with the plans then, since he is such an expert on what will work.
"And I twisted my ankle, guys", Kris notes.
Jure is getting tired of this no-can-do attitude.
"Krisko, your ankle is the least of our worries", he snaps and downs half his drink.
"What if I can't walk?" Kris hisses, but Jure places his hand over Kris' mouth.
"Shhh, not important!" he hisses back.
"What do we do now?" Jan asks, also not a forward thinking problem solver Jure needs on his team.
"Where is the mistletoe now?" Jure demands to know.
"Right here. Didn't stick to the ceiling but I grabbed it off the floor", Kris throws the slightly damaged mistletoe to the table.
Jure grabs it and tries to straighten it.
"Good. We're going to have to freestyle this."
"As opposed to... the preplanned stylings thus far, huh?" Jan comments, but Jure doesn't have time for him and his commentary either.
"Shut up, I'm thinking. This gölgi is honestly surprisingly great, guys, I have to say."
🩵
Bojan is deep in thought planning the most platonic and brotherly way to react to Jere practically pulling him in his lap when they sat back down, when Jere starts to speak.
"What was best part of this year for you Bojan?"
Jere swipes strands of hair away from Bojan's face, and Bojan decides (after having a small stroke) that since Jere seems to have no problem redefining platonic, he also doesn't need to worry about it, so he grabs the drawstrings of Jere's hoodie and starts fiddling with them.
"Is it lame if I say this, right now? You coming to Slovenia? Like, of course we've had an incredible year as a band, amazing shows and just unbelievable experiences, but this.. this is something super special. You're special", he says, pulling at the strings.
Jere grabs his hand and squeezes it.
"Wow, that's.. thank you. You are special too, Bojan. So special", Jere whispers quietly, and again Bojan has to wonder if maybe... but maybe not. Brothers, right?
"What about you? Highlight of your year?" he whispers in an equally quiet tone, so as to not burst the bubble they're in.
Jere smiles that heart melting smile of his.
"I have to say same.. Work is great and I am so grateful and happy. But this is new experience, with special person."
Bojan feels dizzy, and he has made sure to stay away from the homemade glögi. He has only had two glasses of wine. It was two, right..?
"Yeah?" he breathes out.
"Yes," Jere whispers directly into his ear, and that must be just because Jere has actually been sipping away at that paint thinner the boys call glögi, not because of Bojan.
Bojan shivers none the less.
"Are you going to be making any new years resolutions?" he asks, instead of asking Jere for his hand in marriage.
Jere nods. He takes a moment looking away, and then at the ceiling.
"I think maybe.. next year I try be more brave", he says, decisive with a nod.
Bojan's eyebrows shoot up.
"I think you're already super brave", he says, surprised.
Jere shakes his head and still doesn't look at Bojan.
"I want.. not be scared to say what I want say", he says, determined.
"Yeah? What do you want to say?" Bojan is intrigued.
Jere suddenly looks a bit sheepish. In fact, Bojan could swear he sees a faint blush creeping up Jere's face.
"I want.. confess something to someone", Jere whispers very quietly.
Well now Bojan has to know. Because.. A man can dream, right? And if it's not him... he still wants to know.
"Who?" he asks, barely audible.
Jere looks at him, slowly.
"... You, Bojan", Jere breathes out.
Bojan's heart is actively trying to vacate the premises through his trachea. A shiver runs through his entire body and he's sure Jere notices. Right now, he doesn't care.
Because right now, he feels, more than ever, like yes, there is a chance after all. A chance that his wildest dreams could indeed become reality.
There is a spark of hope, suddenly. The air feels electric. Maybe after all this time Jere actually really isn't the most physically affectionate Finnish man who ever lived, who chooses to channel his affections towards one platonic brother over everyone else. Maybe after all this time it is possible, that the pull Bojan feels towards Jere works both ways.
Maybe after all this time, he will hear the words he has only heard in his dreams.
Or maybe his heart is about to shatter into a million little pieces he can never ever put back together.
Either way.. he has to know.
"Me? Confess what to me?" he squeals, very attractively.
"I - " Jere hesitates and looks away.
Bojan can't take it. It's now or never.
"Yes? What do you want to confess, Jerč?" he pleads.
Jere looks at him again, emoji eyes making a comeback.
"I think... I think I like you Bojan. I think maybe.. I know I... I love you", Jere whispers.
Inside, Bojan's soul exits his body, turns into a million fireworks, puts itself back together again and returns to his body now charged with some sort of energy he has never felt before.
Outside, he stares at Jere like he is all seven wonders of the world rolled into one and turned into a man.
"Jere-" he manages to choke out.
"Is that.. okei?"
The vulnerable insecurity in Jere's voice snaps Bojan out of his transcendental out of body experiences and he rushes to grab Jere's face between his hands.
He looks deep into those mesmerising eyes and speaks from the heart.
"Yeah, yes. Yes, yes, yes, it's more than okay."
A smile that could blind Bojan spreads across Jere's face.
"Yes?" Jere asks, shy.
Bojan wants to explode.
"Yes, because I-" he starts but has to stop to close his eyes and breathe.
"Bojan?" Jere pats his hand with his own.
Bojan opens his eyes.
"I love you too", he says, determined to make Jere feel just how much he means it.
Jere's breath hitches.
"You do?" he asks, searching Bojan's eyes.
"Yes. A thousand times yes", Bojan says with confidence that can only be achieved by having your soul turn into a million fireworks because the man of your dreams said he loves you.
A tear rolls down Jere's face and Bojan hurries to wipe it away.
"Oh. Look like I find prince at this party after all", Jere whispers with a soft giggle.
Bojan's newfound confidence has indeed turned him into a storybook prince and he plays the part.
"Can I.. can I kiss you?" he asks.
Jere nods eagerly.
"Yes, please."
Bojan closes the distance between them.
On the other side of the wall, Jure is finishing his session of coaching the guys into real and true mistletoe freestylers. He's not sure they get it, but this is the team he has and this is the team he will lead.
"So, we're gonna have to be smooooth with it guys, real smooth - any more gölni left? So like.. always have eyes on the other guys and be ready to attack, okay?" Jure explains and wonders if the other guys are possibly a little bit drunk. Not him, but them.
"Yeah, be ready to take the mistletoe, be ready to pass the mistletoe, just - be ready", Kris agrees, nodding. Nace and Jan nod along.
"Okay, now. Those two have been on their own in the studio for a good half an hour now, probably whispering half flirtatious things to each other and trying to merge their souls into one or whatever it is they do. It is high time we break that tension with some mistletoe magic", Jure rallies his troops, getting whoops and cheers in return. Maybe they do get it now.
"So, we trap them, from both sides. Where ever they are, we are too, ready to hold the mistletoe over their heads," Nace concludes, and Jure has to clap. Finally, they demonstrate fighting spirit.
"They can't get away. Let's do this. Let's get our singer some tongue down his throat!" Jan shouts, joining in.
"Yes, come onn!" Jure yells.
They all jump up and immediately grab on to the table for support.
"Whoop, ha, I think I might be a bit tipsy", Jan laughs.
"Heh, yeah getting up is - oops, a bit wobbly", Kris giggles.
"We can't let that stand in our way, guys. Game faces on!" Jure declares as they keep going.
Nace is the first at the door.
"Ah, guys...?" he calls.
The others hurry behind him to look through to the studio.
"What? Oh", Jure stops.
"Huh!" Jan quips.
"What - what am I looking at here? Am I seeing this correctly or did we make gölgi strong enough to make me hallucinate?" Kris squints at the sight before them.
"They're.. making out", Nace says.
"They actually are", Jan nods.
"Wow", Kris whispers.
"Who would have guessed", Jan continues.
"Whoooho, nice!!" Jure yelps because he can't help himself.
Bojan and Jere both jump and snap their heads towards the door.
"Shhh, you interrupted them!" Nace complains.
"Oh hello guys", Bojan says with a satisfied smile, and rather than getting up from where he is sitting on Jere's lap, thighs splayed on either side of him, Bojan wraps his arms around Jere's neck and hugs him closer. He stares at his bandmates.
His bandmates stare at him.
"Don't mind us, we can just -" Nace starts to turn.
"Yeah, we don't need to be here", Jan accompanies him.
"Congrats on the.. kissing", Kris shows them both thumbs up.
"Yeah, well done!" Jure congratulates, even if he is a bit disappointed that the fight is over.
Bojan giggles and pets Jere's hair.
"Thanks! Yeah, I guess we.. got our shit together, as you put it," he smiles.
The four other guys stop dead in their tracks.
"You.. knew?" Jure asks slowly.
Bojan shoots them one of his best unimpressed looks.
"Are you asking me if I saw the mistletoe taped to the doorway and immediately knew what you were up to? Or are you asking me if I could hear the four of you getting increasingly louder with your "emergency meetings" as you drank more and more of your incredibly strong fake glögi, which I can only assume you made to get us tipsy? You know, he might not understand Slovene, but I do. And you were loud", he explains.
Four pairs of eyes stare at him, blankly.
"I'm taking that as yes he knew, guys", Jure whispers.
"We just wanted to help, Boki", Kris whines.
"Both you and us", Jan helps.
"Help us and..yourselves..?" Bojan asks, confused.
"You are annoying, Boki. So annoying", Kris explains helpfully.
"Yeah, and gross", Jan adds, as Nace, Jure and Kris nod along.
Jere starts to giggle hysterically.
"Bojan, I think Joker boys are drunk", he manages between giggles.
Bojan laughs too, shaking his head.
"They are, but they do actually mean it too. Well, lucky for you guys, we did get our shit together, and confessed our feelings for each other, so really I should be congratulating you!" he says happily.
The blank stares return.
"Th- thank you..?" Jure tries.
Bojan nods enthusiastically.
"Yeah, you got what you wanted! First row seats to us openly and happily in love. Right, Jerč?" he says and turns to Jere, who immediately knows to play along.
"We are so in love! We have to kiss all the time", Jere explains and looks at Bojan lovingly.
Bojan starts petting his hair.
"Aaaalll the time, like right now, mmh kiss me Jere, kiss me like you mean it", he sighs, and Jere surges to devour his mouth, as Bojan moans loudly.
"Okay, we get it!" Kris yells and covers his eyes.
"You can stop now", Jan pleads, but doesn't actually look away.
Bojan breaks the kiss and looks at his bandmates apologetically and very convincingly, as good actors do.
"Oh but we can't!" he pouts.
Jere shakes his head too.
"No, we maybe die!" he all but shouts.
"Or I might turn into a toad if Princess Charming here doesn't kiss me regularly and rigorously!" Bojan worries, hugging Jere's whole head to his chest.
Jere looks up pleadingly.
"Kiss me, prince! I don't want kiss a toad!" he stage whispers.
Bojan dives right in.
"Ha, ha, ha, we get it!" Jure says, unimpressed.
"There's no point guys, we're done here", Nace says and starts herding the guys in the backroom.
"Yeah, leave them to it", Jan agrees but takes one last look.
"Can we order pizza? I don't feel too good..." Kris asks.
"It's that damn glönni", Jure curses.
"GLÖGI!" comes the immediate stereo response from the couch.
"Shut up, lovebirds."
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Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 108... You have been warned...! 👌
[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]
WE ARE SO BACK!!! 🗣 And this chapter was... SO DAMN GOOD! 👏😆
What an awesome early Christmas present!! 💗🤗💗 Now let's get back into the swing of things, shall we...? 😉
To start off, we pick up right where we left off with Mission 107... With Yor and Anya finding out that Melinda is a fortune teller at the sheep festival!! 😲 (Also, @yumeka-sxf shared the Japanese version of the first page of this chapter the other day with other Spy X Family Jump Festa news!! 😁)
Melinda then tells Yor to not tell anyone about her being into the occult...!! She even mentions how she believes in many things, including telepathy to Anya's surprise (though, I believe there might be a reason why Melinda is into the occult, perhaps she knows more than she's letting on? 🤔)
After Yor tells Melinda that she admires that she can do what she loves and Melinda happily thinks that Yor is into the occult too, Anya then asks Melinda to read her fortune:
I was like, "Oh gosh, what's gonna happen...? What is Melinda gonna see...?!" 😵 So as I waited with baited breath to see Melinda in action, she lays out her tarot cards to read Anya's fortune and...:
SHE'S HORRIBLE AT IT!!! 🤭
I mean, this could be all an act... 🤔 But for right now, I'm gonna believe that she really isn't that good at fortune telling, mainly because I think it's funny and cute...!! 😄
After reading that the grim reaper is behind Anya (A.K.A. Yor 👏😂) and saying that Anya will NEVER get another Stella Star, Melinda asks Anya if she likes Damian... Anya of course says NO because he bullies her, but Melinda appreciates that she is still trying to be friends with Damian...!! 😊 Soon Melinda starts to think about how she wasn't there for Damian during the Desmond "family" dinner back in Mission 106 and thinks that she needs to go and face Damian, then...:
HOLY SHIT, DONOVAN JUMP SCARE!!! 😱
Ever since she introduced herself as Melinda Desmond way back in Mission 65, I didn't know how to feel about this woman, I just could not figure her out... But thanks all to of these recent developments in the last few chapters that she's been in, I think that I can safely say that Melinda needs to take Damian (and Demetrius, if he isn't too far gone) AND GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM DONOVAN!! 😫 I don't know what's up with that man, but if he can make his supposed "wife" THIS SCARED OF HIM, then he definitely NEEDS TO BE STOPPED!! 👏👏👏
Moving on, Anya hears all of Melinda's conflicting thoughts, which makes Anya wonder something...:
It always warms my heart whenever Anya shows her concern and compassion for others...! 💗 Though currently for Melinda, she could not answer Anya's question and decided to leave as soon as possible... 😔 But before she goes, Yor stops Melinda to tell her something...
We then cut back the others as Anya and Yor make their return to the group...!! Becky asks how it went, and...:
GODDAMNIT BECKY, YOU ARE JUST SOOO DELUSIONAL GIRL!! 🤣
Besides Becky thinking that her fortune teller is a hack (this girl, I swear 😌) and reacting to Anya's grim reaper fortune (with Yor being adorable about it 💗), she asks Anya about her love fortune and Anya lies and tells Becky that the fortune teller told her to get invited to his house, which makes Damian to start yelling...!! 👌😌
After Anya convinces Twilight to stay longer (because he was gonna go look for Melinda, though he doesn't know that she already left), they all stay until it becomes dark before everyone decides to leave the festival. Yor thanks the Eden kids for being friends with Anya, while Damian scoffs at seeing Anya holding her mother's hand, which causes Anya to say this to him:
Which makes Damian flustered and then Yor chimes in reaffirming Anya's statement, causing Damian to run off...!! 🤭
After that, Jeeves and the other butlers say their goodbyes and even offer to get drinks again with Twilight sometime...!! 😊 But as they left, it reminded Twilight of something that broke my heart... 🥲
ENDO!!! 😭 WHY DO YOU ALWAYS DO THIS STUFF TO ME!!! 💔
This was literally bringing me to TEARS!! 😫 THEY REMINDED HIM OF HIS FRIENDS, I CAN'T-- 😭😭😭
Ahem...! Sorry about that... 😢 Anyway, after *sniff* that, Twilight asks if Anya enjoyed the festival, she of course did enjoy her time there and the Forgers headed home...!! 💗
After that, we see Twilight at his psychiatrist job and he has a new patient...:
IT'S FREAKING MELINDA!! 😵
Turns out the thing that Yor told Melinda was to go see Loid because he's a doctor (she also mentions that he does "concussive therapy" to his patients👏🤣), and now Loid can (hopefully) get some info from Melinda! 😲
And that was the end of chapter, and boy did I miss this...!! 😁 Not only was this chapter fantastic on SO MANY LEVELS, but it's also great to talk about a new chapter again!! 😊 This honestly the best early Christmas gift that I could ask for...!! 💗🤗💗
I am so glad that Endo is doing a lot better and I hope that he takes it easy going forward because even though I love this series with all my heart, I'd rather have Endo get as much rest and take as many breaks as he needs then to have this man die on the job just for our entertainment. Endo is a human being like every last single one of us fans, so it's always very sad to me when I see people care more about fictional characters and their worlds over the real people that make 'em...!! 😤 More people should know better, but they don't and that just sucks so much man... 😮💨
Anyway, sorry about my little tangent there... This chapter was a wonderful chapter for the series to return with and as always, I can't wait for the next one!! 😊 So until the next Mission; take care, be safe out there and be kind to one another...!! Also...
MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS Y'ALL...!! SEE YA!! 👋😄
#spy x family#sxf#spyxfamily#spy x family spoilers#sxf spoilers#spyxfamily spoilers#spy x family manga#sxf manga#spyxfamily manga#Mission 108#manga spoilers#yor forger#anya forger#melinda desmond#damian desmond#loid forger#becky blackbell#sxf jeeves#WE ARE SO FINALLY BACK Y'ALL!! 👏😆#I really missed talking about Spy × Family...! 💗🥹💗#Thank you Endo for this amazing chapter; you deserve all the rest that you can get...!! 💗🤗💗
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I have gotten so far behind on this series I really need to get caught up... so here goes
Mindless and tired, you unlocked the door before your heels hit something rustling on the shabby doormat. As you glanced down, you found a brown envelope with your name in bold, black letters on it. Your stomach churned. You knew what it was and what you’d find inside.
Uh-oh, there's been another victim... and the killer knows where she is to send it straight to her!!
“We figured you might care since you’re the sheriff and all,” you deadpanned without lifting a single eye at him, which earned you a small glare from him as he sat down next to you.
Oh damn she's definitely not happy with him!
“Ugh, Ted…” Beau groaned and dramatically rolled his eyes back.
Oh, Beau... reminds me of this scene
Ouch, that flashback hurt. Poor Beau 😔
“Nothing,” you brushed it off and grinned. “So, who do you think you are, huh? Patrick Dempsey?”
Love the little Grey's Anatomy reference.
I love how they eventually talked things out. The raw emotion of that scene was just...
And the flashback to the motel room in Mexico 🥵🥵🔥🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥
“So… that happened,” Beau said almost to an awkward degree. It made you snort a laugh.
“Technically, it’s still happening,” you noted with an amused smile and squeezed his softening cock inside of you.
Loved this exchange!!
Polaris – Chapter 3
Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.
Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader
Warnings: 18+, angst, a muder case, funerals, drinking, hurt, fluff, smut
Word Count: 7.3k
A/N: This week we have heavy relationship stuff, Cassie/Jenny shenanigans, and a full dive into our murder mystery 🤓 Or did you forget about the serial killer on the loose? 👀
Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List
Chapter 3: Pour The Whiskey
The sky was vanilla when the sun finally set behind the Montana mountains, the first stars appearing above and announcing the night. You pushed the driver’s door of your SUV shut and trudged back to the motel for a change of clothes before meeting up with Jenny, Cassie, and Beau for drinks.
You’d been apprehensive about spending the evening with him but knew you couldn’t exclude him. Not forever, at least. It was his home, his friends. You were just a guest here, and you didn’t mind him coming as long as you had the two women as a buffer. You would just have to ignore the stinging in your heart all night. Easy.
Mindless and tired, you unlocked the door before your heels hit something rustling on the shabby doormat. As you glanced down, you found a brown envelope with your name in bold, black letters on it. Your stomach churned. You knew what it was and what you’d find inside.
There had been another victim.
Beau’s heart thumped in his ribcage as he entered the bar. It was a full Friday night, most of Helena ringing in the weekend at the Boot Heel as he looked around the crowd for you and his friends. He hoped Jenny was right, and he could use the evening as an opportunity to talk to you and explain everything – right a few wrongs.
As he spied the three of you at a table in a corner booth, he frowned at the laptop propped open in the middle between all of you. He didn’t expect you to bring work to drinks tonight, but on second thought, he should’ve guessed as much. Relaxing had never been high on your list when you were on the job.
“Guys, c’mon, really? What is this?” Beau asked with a teasing smile. His brow scrunched, however, as he gestured at the computer. “I thought we’re here to have fun.”
“There’s been another victim,” Jenny said without missing a beat and shot him a look that told him to rein in the humor.
Beau’s mouth opened in surprise and then closed for a lack of words, exhaling a breath through his freckled nose. He for sure hadn’t expected that answer.
“We figured you might care since you’re the sheriff and all,” you deadpanned without lifting a single eye at him, which earned you a small glare from him as he sat down next to you.
Jenny and Cassie had cleverly taken seats next to each other, so you were left to sit next to Beau. And thereby went your plan to use them as a buffer tonight. So much for female support. His friends, you reminded yourself.
Fortunately, a new murder victim was also a good excuse to be distracted and not deal with your love life.
“Why didn’t you guys call me there was a new body? Shouldn’t we, you know, go to the crime scene?” Beau looked at you three confused.
“There’s no body yet,” Cassie replied.
His brow creased even more. “Then how do you know there’s been another victim?”
You turned the laptop toward him as a video flickered across the screen. Leaning closer, he squinted his eyes at the content before glancing at you. His brow quirked in confusion. “What am I looking at here? What’s this?”
“The killer always sends video material of the victim’s last forty-eight hours,” you explained.
“We’ve never gotten a video before,” Beau said and looked at Jenny for confirmation, who shook her head.
“Because the killer has been sending them to the FBI. First to the field office in Houston and then to me specifically,” you informed him.
Beau’s look darkened, his features hardening, except for a twitch of his nostril. You could guess what he was thinking as he read between the lines of your words. “What do you mean 'you specifically'? Where was this sent to? The station?”
You exhaled a weary breath. “When the case got assigned to me, the envelopes started getting directly addressed to me and delivered to my desk at the office. This one was delivered by my doorstep at the motel.”
“I’m sorry, what?!” Beau’s green eyes widened, his entire body flooding with worry. “Y/N–”
“It’s not unusual,” you interjected quickly. “Our profiler thinks we’re dealing with a narcissistic psychopath. They’re sensation seekers and exhibit a need for control. Communicating directly with me is our subject’s way of controlling the narrative,” you explained but could tell your answer didn’t soothe him in the slightest.
“That’s not the point I was tryna make,” he grunted. “You can’t stay at that motel.”
“I know,” you agreed. “Cassie already offered me her guest room.”
“Yeah, and I’m an empty nester with plenty of space, too,” Jenny added and swiftly turned to her beer upon Beau’s frustrated look.
“Oh… Great, so plenty of options,” Beau grumbled but caught himself quickly, recovering with a tight smile. “Good…”
There went his plan to ask you to stay with him. He had by far the smallest place, but his hope was that you wouldn’t have needed more than a bed. Preferably his. And although he trusted Jenny and Cassie, it still bothered him that he couldn’t keep an eye on you himself. It wasn’t like he’d even insist on sharing a bed with you. He’d take the couch or even a goddamn patio chair outside as long as he knew that you were safe.
“Do I need to worry about you being a target?” Beau’s eyes found yours and held your gaze. You could’ve sworn you heard his heart beating faster in his chest.
“No, I don’t think so,” you replied and tried to sound as reassuring as possible. It didn’t work, however.
His brow raised as he retorted sarcastically, “Oh, you don’t think so. Well, that’s comforting.” He scoffed, shaking his head.
You sighed. “Look, the murder victims are all females in different age ranges. What they have in common, though, is that they are all married to a spouse who stepped out on them. The true targets were always the cheating husbands.”
“Why?” Beau’s brow furrowed. All he knew so far about the case was that three female bodies turned up dead at crossroads. He knew their names; he knew their families. Now, there was a fourth.
What he didn’t know was the who, what, how, or why. That was your area of expertise.
“The crossroads? It’s supposed to show that the women chose the wrong path. They stayed with their cheating partners,” you clarified. “On the other hand–”
“–their spouses get punished for getting their loved ones killed,” Beau finished. He rubbed his bearded chin, pointing at the laptop screen. “And what’s the theory with the videos?”
“They’re essentially held in an escape room. The women get locked in a bunker with a box of tools. If they find the right way out, they walk free. If not, their body is dumped at a crossroads after they’ve run out of oxygen. They’re basically buried alive,” you said.
“You ever found the bunker? Has anyone ever escaped?” Beau asked.
You shook your head and spoke quieter. “No, we’ve never found them. Based on the videos, we think there’s more than one location, especially since the subject has hit five states so far, including Montana. We assume the recordings’ purpose is to torture the husbands. A copy of it always gets sent to a partner, so they witness the suffering they’ve caused.” Letting out a sharp exhale, you continued, “And no, no one has ever escaped. We’re not sure if it’s even possible. It might just be a sadistic torture method as well.”
“Make ‘em believe they can get out when they really can’t,” Beau concluded grimly and chewed on his lower lip before flashing a cynical smile. “Well, ain’t that a fun one…”
“We think the killer is highly intelligent and organized,” Jenny said.
“Yeah, and they’re probably keeping tabs on us. They know we’re working the case,” you added and glanced around the patrons of the Boot Heel. The killer might even be in this bar with you. It wasn’t unlikely they followed you here from the motel. As inconspicuous as you tried to be, Beau still caught your little areal scan.
“That didn’t answer my question, though,” Beau then said and looked deeply into your eyes, his brow stern. “Do I need to be worried? ‘Cause I gotta tell you, I’m itchin’ to put protection detail on you.”
“Who, Poppernak?” you quipped, but Beau didn’t laugh. “And no, no need to worry. I don’t fit the victimology,” you told him with a poker face. It was the truth. What you left out, however, was that you’d always be a potential target, no matter what the victim’s profile said. You were on a killer’s radar. Hell, your whole job was to be in harm’s way.
Luckily, your phone buzzed on the table, saving you from more questions and drilling looks. Beau was smart and a good detective. You knew he could see right through you.
“Excuse me, it’s my DA in Houston. I have to get this,” you said and stood up from the table.
“Ugh, Ted…” Beau groaned and dramatically rolled his eyes back.
“You’re a child,” you scolded him. “What d’you have against Ted? He’s a good attorney.”
“He’s a douche, and he sucks,” Beau declared with a huff.
You sent him a glare. “You’re just saying that ‘cause we dated briefly.”
“Nope, already didn’t like that slimy coyote before that,” Beau maintained. “Neither did Randy, by the way.”
“Wow, okay…” You scoffed, tongue poking your cheek as you shook your head. “I’m gonna take this outside,” you said with a glower and then fled through the doors of the restaurant to the quiet street.
“Y/N, wait–” Beau tried to stop you, but you had already stormed out and couldn’t hear him anymore. The sheriff then pursed his lips and exhaled a deep sigh.
“Stepped in it again, huh?” Cassie threw him a sympathetic look.
Beau ran a palm over his freckled face, his lips in a tight line. “Big time.”
“Well, she’s got good taste,” Jenny remarked as she looked at her phone before holding it up for Cassie to see.
“Not bad,” Cassie agreed with a low whistle and smirked.
Beau caught a glimpse of the screen, seeing Ted’s stupid face looking right back at him, and scowled at the women. “Really? Well, thanks for the knife in my back. Who’s side are you two on, huh?”
“Aw, Beau, we’re just having fun.” Cassie chuckled in amusement.
“Yeah, well, he’s not that good-looking up close, by the way,” Beau retorted, trying to keep his jealousy at bay. “He just photographs well.”
“He’s cute when he’s jealous,” Jenny said to Cassie, who nodded in agreement.
Beau scoffed. “I’m not jealous.”
“Did Ted make it onto your punch list?” Cassie asked jokingly.
“Oh, you bet he did,” Beau replied with a huff.
“So… is he the new Avery now?” Jenny teased and arched a brow. The two women looked at him expectantly.
Beau narrowed his eyes at them. “I hate you both. I really do.”
“That’s a yes,” Jenny surmised, and both women broke into laughter on Beau’s dime.
But he was a good sport and could take a little teasing. Besides, he really did wish to punch Ted’s face. He knew the guy had held a torch for you for years.
“So, Y/N knew your old partner, too?” Cassie asked and hauled him back from his revenge fantasies.
“Yeah, kinda…”
Beau swallowed the shameful lump in his throat and licked his lips, bobbing his head. He probably had to tell them eventually. The truth would surely come out at some point.
His green eyes drifted to the glass of whiskey in front of Cassie. “You mind, uh–” He gestured at the drink but didn’t wait for a reply. He grabbed the glass and downed it in one go.
The girls shared a raised look.
The alcohol burned right through him and numbed the twinge in his heart. He cleared his throat but didn’t look at them, keeping his eyes trained on the glass in his hands as he spoke.
“Yeah, uh, she was his wife.”
His confession was followed by deafening silence, the loud music and chatter of the bar drowning out. Realization dawned on both women’s features as they let the words sink in.
Cassie was the first to speak, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “I don’t-… You never said anything about this during grief counseling.”
Beau nodded and smacked his lips, still avoiding to look at them. “Yeah, well, it’s not somethin’ I’m exactly proud of.”
“I get that,” Jenny said after a pause. “But Beau, we would’ve understood. We wouldn’t have judged you.”
“Yeah,” Cassie subscribed and reached out her hand, clasping his. “And we still don’t.”
“Thanks, but I judge myself plenty enough. Trust me,” Beau said somberly and flashed them a sad smile.
As you ambled back to the table, you took immediate note of what you could only classify as a strange vibe. Everyone’s faces looked austere and bleak. So, naturally, you tried to lighten the mood.
“What happened here?” You cocked a brow and tilted your head at the three with a chuckle. “You guys look like you’re at a funeral.”
Beau snorted humorlessly and set down the empty glass in his hand, rising from his seat. “I’m gonna need more of where this came from. ‘Scuse me,” he said and made a beeline for the bar.
Mouth ajar, you stared after him, wondering if you’d said something wrong.
August 2020
The door swung wide open and hit the wall with a loud bang that surely rattled the entire church as you burst into the small back room. Your jaw tightened when you finally found him, sitting on the cold tiles with a bottle of bourbon in his hands, leaning against the wall.
His green eyes looked up, red and glazed, and found yours. Your chest heaved with every surge of anger that rumbled through your body.
“What the hell?” you yelled. He flinched at the sound of your voice. The unshed tears in your eyes threatened to choke you, but you were too livid to let them free. “Where were you? Were you here this whole fucking time? Getting drunk? You were supposed to give the eulogy!”
Beau hung his head in his hands before dragging a palm over his face, the tears stinging his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in over a week and drank a whole liquor store. His body was shaking, his voice trembling. “I-I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry…”
“You’re sorry?” You scoffed, shaking your head. “You were supposed to be there for me. You promised.” A few tears finally escaped and rolled down your cheeks. You wiped them away with your palm. “Guess I shoulda known your word isn’t worth a fucking dime.”
You stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut behind you.
That’s when Beau broke down, sobs wracking through his entire body. Your disappointment was the last straw for him. This was rock bottom. There was nothing lower than the frigid, unforgiving rocks he found himself falling on. The ones that cracked his skull, broke his bones, and shattered his heart. He had built this prison with his own two hands, rock by fucking rock.
Anger rose in his chest and threatened to tear him apart at the seams till his soul spilled out through the cracks. He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror anymore. He didn’t recognize the stranger staring back at him. Neither did his family. The only thing he was good at these days was letting people down.
The bottle in his shaking hands then flew across the room and smashed against the wall, shatters of glass and pools of liquor littering the floor.
He was a fucking mess, but he had to make it right. At least by you.
Your hand softly settled on his shoulder as you approached him by the bar counter. He was nursing a whiskey and avoided looking at you. You exhaled a deep breath before you spoke. “So, I’m guessing by the wide eyes, the long faces, and the general awkwardness that you told them about Randy,” you deduced.
His gaze landed on you at that. A light chuckle squeezed past his lips. “You’re good.”
You took a seat on a barstool next to him. “Oh, I know. If I wasn’t, I would’ve picked the wrong profession.”
He gave you a weak smile in return and licked his lips, returning to his drink.
“Look, uhm, if you wanna talk about it, we can talk about it, okay?” you offered, tapping your fingertips on the bar counter. “I know I’ve been mad at you. But I also know you’re struggling with… well, everything that is us, I guess. I mean, I’m still upset, but I don’t like seeing you like this. I never meant to hurt you.”
Beau nodded, and then a smile, a real and genuine one, formed on his lips. “You know, I’m supposed to actually say that to you.”
“Oh yeah? Which part?” You bit your bottom lip, hiding a small grin behind it.
“The, uhm, sorry-I-never-meant-to-hurt-you part,” he said, green eyes boring into yours as he looked up from his glass.
You gave him a one-sided twitch of your shoulder. You were not the vulnerable type, especially not in a public setting like a crowded bar with a guy who hurt you once before. You wanted to avoid any admission of feelings. Because if you did confess, it meant you felt them in the first place.
“It’s okay, Beau. You don’t have to apologize for how you’re feeling,” you said. Sweeping all your anger and pain under the rug of friendship was your safest option. The plan still remained: solve the case and get the hell out of dodge.
“Yeah, that’s just it. I really do,” Beau replied wryly and finished his drink. “Just gimme a chance to explain, alright? Just one. That’s all you gotta do. If afterwards you still wanna end it, I’ll let you go.”
Pensively, you bit down on your bottom lip and gazed into his eyes. Sincerity, longing, and hope shimmered in them, pulling you right back into that green sea. Although it was probably a mistake, you agreed.
You weren’t sure what it was exactly – whether it was the fact that Beau was your friend, your shared history together, or that he was your dead husband’s old partner. But you were willing to listen to what he had to say. You owed him at least as much.
“Okay,” you said.
When Beau took you to, in his words, “humble abode,” you had expected as much. He had been talking your ear off about his “dream home” for three years now, and a part of you was happy for him that he finally had realized it.
Another part, though, knew him too well and itched to make fun of him for it. You even wondered if bribery was on the table if you threatened to bring both Jenny and Cassie into the loop.
Beau stood with a proud grin next to you, gauging your reaction to his home. “So, what d’you say, huh?”
“I think Emily might have been right…” you mumbled into your jacket. At lunch, she called it a “tin can.”
“What?” The sheriff quirked a brow.
“Nothing,” you brushed it off and grinned. “So, who do you think you are, huh? Patrick Dempsey?”
Beau’s lips pursed a little in a caught kind of manner but still tried to overplay it with a shake of his head. “I don’t know whatcha talkin’ about…”
“Sure you do,” you teased and nudged his shoulder playfully with your elbow. Your grin widened; your eyebrows rose higher. “C’mon, Beau, it’s just me.”
“It’s a guilty pleasure, alright?” he barked as his façade broke. “I just want Meredith to be happy.”
You soothingly rubbed his back. “We all do, sweetie, we all do…” you sighed in understanding.
His head then snapped to you, green eyes wide. “Don’t you dare tell Cassie and Jenny about this! If they find out, I’ll never hear the end of this. Lord knows they’d make me watch more Gosling movies…”
“Yeah, that would be so funny,” you remarked, chuckling. Beau scowled at you warningly.
Taking a step closer to the trailer, you let his life in front of you sink in. You imagined how he’d sit in his patio chair with a bottle of beer in front of the fire pit on cool summer nights, how he’d grab his fishing rod that leaned by the door on his days off, and how he’d have movie nights with his friends on the screen and projector nestled in the back of his little porch.
This is what he left you for.
“You okay there?” Beau checked, noticing your vacant stare.
“I’m fine.” You forced a smile to your lips. “This is nice.”
Beau sighed a little. By now, he knew that your “fines” were never that. He also knew you’d never tell him what you were really thinking.
“Beer?” he offered, hoping you’d accept because God knows he needed one.
“Tequila?” came your reply. You’d need something stronger for this conversation.
“Even better,” Beau agreed and went to pour two shots, handing you one.
You downed it before he could even say “salud” and held out your glass for a refill. He raised his brow a little at you but obliged without question, hiding an amused smile. When the second one burned down your throat, you let out a jittery breath.
“I’ll take that beer now.”
“Well, thank God you’re not a lightweight.” Beau snorted as he handed you a bottle and uncapped it for you. “C’mon, just talk to me. What’s bothering you? I mean, I can take a guess, but I’d rather have you tell me.”
“Guess.” The sternness of your voice gave no room for jokes.
Beau scratched his beard, nodding his head. “Is this about Randy? Look, I’ve been going to grief counseling, okay? I’m working through it. I’m a lot better now.”
“Well, good for you,” you muttered wryly and took a sip of your beer. All you really wanted was another shot of tequila, but asking for more would probably worry him at this point.
“I just-… Maybe it’ll help you, too. I could go with you,” he suggested, his eyes flashing to your left hand. “You’re still wearing the ring.”
“And I’m always gonna wear it!” You frowned, your brow knitting in a deadly combination of anger and hurt. “So, what? You left me because I was still attached to my dead husband? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No, I–”
“You wanna do this? Fine, let’s do it,” you announced a little too belligerently as if you were entering a boxing ring, but you were all guns blazing at this point. You took another swig of beer before placing the bottle down on a table nearby. Luckily, the tequilas were finally kicking in.
“Y/N–”
“Nuh-uh, my turn,” you swiftly cut him off. You needed to get this off your chest before the alcohol-induced courage was leaving you again. You’d been waiting to say this for close to a year. You were tired of having this conversation only with your mirror image. “You think this is about Randy? It’s not! I never had a problem with that. You did. Yes, my husband died, and I lost something, but then I found you, okay? And I thought you felt the same way, but then you just fucking left without a warning.”
“I–”
“Still not done yet.” You held up a finger and paused for a beer break and a deep breath. Your lungs were burning for air before you dove back into the water. “I don’t know what’s there left to explain! You found out Carla was getting married and told me you were still in love with her, and then you just up and left and moved to fucking Montana! But then, you didn’t go back to her, did you now?”
“No, that’s what I’m tryna tell ya–”
But you didn’t let him finish. Another huff before you inhaled enough air for your next tirade. “You retired and then un-retired and went fucking trout fishing! And I don’t understand any of it!”
“What, the fishin’?” Beau quipped with an uncomfortable snicker and swallowed harshly upon your deathly glare that cut like a machete, feeling his head slip off his neck.
“What the fuck was all that for, then? Why did you fucking leave if you’re just… dwelling here? You left almost a year ago, and we haven’t spoken since. What’s changed? ‘Cause I can’t fucking see a difference.”
“Look, I tried callin’ ya. I texted. You never picked up,” he threw in and tried not to sound accusatory. Honestly, he understood why you didn’t. Against all odds, he had just always hoped you still would.
“Oh, I wonder why,” you huffed sarcastically before tears began to sting your eyes and blur your vision. But you powered through, refusing to start sobbing in front of him. “You know I was a broken mess when Randy died, and I really didn’t expect I’d ever feel like that again until you left… Do you even know what that means? C’mon, let’s be honest here. You left Texas ‘cause you couldn’t fucking bear the guilt of sleeping with your partner’s wife any longer. That’s the true fucking reason!”
Beau’s lips straightened into a thin line as he ground his jaw, hands resting on his belt. His head bobbed in thought, eyes drawn to his boots before he gazed up and saw you were finally out of breath. The tears that flowed down your cheeks broke his heart. Your words stung like knives.
“Can I say something now?”
“Go ahead,” you retorted rather challengingly and wiped your wet cheeks dry with your sleeves.
Beau sighed and finally drank his shot of tequila. He hissed slightly before finding your eyes. “Look, you’re right. Carla, everything else… it was an excuse, but not for the reasons you think.”
“Oh, gimme a break!” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest.
“I didn’t wanna face the truth, okay? I felt guilty. Still do, actually,” he admitted and swallowed thickly. “And not ‘cause I slept with my partner’s wife, but because I fell in love with my partner’s wife.”
Your heart stopped beating for a moment as you looked at him. You always felt it, always wanted him to say it, but he never had until now.
“It always meant something to me. You were never a rebound after my divorce. You were never just a distraction from my grief. I never would’ve even kissed you if I hadn’t had feelings for you from the start,” he confessed and ran a hand over his face as the words rushed out. He tried to shove the unshed tears in his eyes back inside.
“And yeah, I’ll always love Carla. Just like I know you’ll always love Randy, but two things can be true at the same time. And the second one is that I’m so deeply and irrevocably in love with you that it scares the living hell outta me.” He gave a small shrug like his feelings couldn’t be helped. “But every time I felt this pull towards you, I kept wondering if I would’ve felt it if I’d never gotten divorced. If Randy never died… Would I have still fallen in love with you? And then the guilt set in, ‘cause the only answer I ever came up with was ‘yes.’”
“Beau…” You stood there petrified, not knowing what to do or say until you saw a tear fall down his cheek. It broke you to see him like this, see all the guilt and shame he carried in his heart for something neither of you could control.
“I’m sorry that I left and hurt you. I never meant for that to happen. I thought I was doing the right thing by lettin’ you go. I thought you deserved better. I never could give you everything you needed. Not then, at least,” he explained. “I tried to ignore my feelings and shove ‘em down. I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t deal with it anymore. He was my best friend and my partner. I mean, I was his best man at your guys’ wedding,” he said and let out a humorless chuckle, dragging a palm over his face. Then, his green eyes bored into yours, drowning in emotion. “But once you showed up here… I just couldn’t stay away anymore. I don’t wanna lose you again. I don’t wanna die without you ever knowing how I feel about you. I love you, and I’ve goddamn missed you, Y/N.”
In a heartbeat, you caught his lips, warm and soft and trembling against yours as you kissed him. His breathing quickened, his heart thrumming wildly against his ribcage, his mind filling with nothing but you. His hands were in your hair and on your waist, yours sliding from his cheeks to rest on his broad chest.
When you drew back breathlessly, you looked up into his eyes. “Look, uhm, I don’t have an answer for you. Maybe we would have found each other eventually, or we wouldn’t have,” you said and gave him a small smile. “I don’t think we’re ever gonna solve this one. I don’t think we even have to. So, maybe let’s not focus so much on the ‘what ifs’ and more on the ‘what nows.’”
Beau’s lips rose to a soft smile. “I can do that,” he said. “So, what now?”
“Now, I’ll tell you that I love you, and we’ll make out for a looong time like we’re trying to catch up for everything we missed out on when we were apart. And then we’ll figure out an excuse to tell Cassie and Jenny for me not coming home tonight,” you replied, smirking.
Beau chuckled. “Alright, sounds like a plan. Although I doubt you’re just gonna stick to the make-out. I mean, let’s be real here, we both know you can’t keep your hands to yourself,” he teased.
You gasped playfully and slapped his arm, making him laugh. “Careful now, Sheriff. You’re getting cocky. You better have some proof to back that one up.”
“Oh, I can deliver.” He smirked and dipped his head, claiming your lips.
Heat rose to your chest as his hands slid up your body. You parted your lips slightly, enough for his tongue to slip inside and taste you. His fingers dented the skin on your waist as your arms locked around his neck. His beard tickled your flushed cheeks as you breathed each other in.
“Damn you,” you sighed as you both came up for air.
Beau smiled before his soft lips pressed against yours once more. He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you inside.
September 2021
Your legs were slung around his waist, holding him tight as Beau carried you into the dainty Mexican motel room, cool and dry desert air hushing inside with your movements. He kicked the door shut with his boot, his lips roaming every inch of you they could reach. Your fingers tangled in his hair, occasionally eliciting a groan against your skin when you tugged too roughly.
His hands, his lips, his heart – no part of his body wanted to ever leave yours.
The first and only time his shaking hands let go of you completely since you two jumped out of the car in the motel parking lot was when he sat you down on the end of the squeaky bed, your feet hitting the stained and dusty carpet. He started unbuttoning his shirt; you strived off your shoes and tank top, flinging each item somewhere across the room before helping him with the remaining buttons.
Your lips touched his abdomen, kissed his warm skin, and felt him shivering underneath you as you trailed your way down his abs. Your fingers unbuckled his belt and opened his zipper, letting his jeans pool around his ankles.
You looked up and found his half-lidded eyes, checking if the next step of your endeavor was wanted. His green orbs were full of desire, a need for you that made you drip between your legs. His breathing quickened, a sharp inhale of air as your hand snuck down his boxers. His eyes closed. You smirked and kissed below his pubic bone, pulling the fabric down to join the rest of the discarded clothes on the filthy ground.
“You don’t have to,” he said with a thick swallow, his voice rasped and strained when his erection sprang against your parted lips.
“Oh, but I want to,” you replied cheekily and wrapped your hand around the base of his hard cock.
His large palm wantonly caressed your cheek, thumbing your bottom lip. You sucked his thumb first, teased with your tongue, and twisted your grip around his dick as you stroked him until a first hiss escaped his plump lips and he twitched in your palm. You let his thumb go with a pop and sent him a naughty smile. Your warm breath ghosted against his swollen tip before your tongue took a salty taste test and dipped into the slit. His head fell back between his shoulder blades with a groan.
“Let go,” you told him, your voice sultry and seductively low in the quiet of the room, only the neighbor’s TV drowning through the walls with a Spanish soap. You planted wet kisses on his length all the way down to the root as you spoke. “You can do whatever you want with me. I want you to…”
“Fuck, don’t tell me shit like that,” he growled with restraint.
You smirked. “Why? Does it turn you on?”
“You have no idea,” Beau replied and bit down on his lip, tugging it behind his teeth.
“I think I have some,” you said with a chuckle, noticing how his dick twitched at your words.
Your lips enveloped the head of his cock and then slid down his shaft, taking as much of him as you could fit until he nudged the back of your throat. He was long and thick, making your jaw ache as you sucked him down. He gathered your hair in his fist and guided your pace, a burn on your scalp that spurred you on.
His hips rocked to the bob of your head, taking him a little bit deeper each time. Hollowing your cheeks, you went nose-deep once your jaw adjusted to his girth, leaving his dick spit-wet before he pulled you off with a hiss.
“Shit,” he groaned between heavy breaths. “Not gonna last long if you keep this up,” he said with a coy smile, admiration gleaming in his eyes as he leaned down, hungrily kissing your red and glistening lips. “I wanna come inside you.”
With your heart beating in your throat, you couldn’t speak and just nodded, planting a firm kiss on his lips.
He unclasped your bra, and you flung it off your shoulders as he slipped out of his boots. You shrieked and giggled when he grabbed your thighs and threw you off your feet with one quick haul, your back and head hitting the mattress with a blissful sigh.
His body pressed on top of yours, heavy and large and perfectly sculpted, his mouth following a trail from below your neck to above the edge of your jeans. He shimmied the tight material down your ass and thighs, all the way down your smooth legs, your black cotton panties following shortly after till you were bare in front of him.
Green eyes traced the curves of your body. His Adam’s apple bobbed when they landed on your slick folds. He knelt between your spread legs and lowered his head to your pussy, nose, tongue, and lips traveling through your soaked slit.
His tongue circled your clit and poked into your tight channel till your breath caught in your throat. His lips sucked and tasted you till your heart pounded furiously in your chest. His teeth nibbled and teased till you were writhing underneath him.
One finger, then two, slipped inside and threatened to turn you inside out as they plunged in and out of you, knuckle-deep against your velvet walls. Your hips jerked upon his every touch, a firm hand holding you in place. Your fist gripped his hair as your thighs trembled, calves resting against his strong arms. The back of your head pressed harshly into the mattress as an unstoppable fire claimed your entire body.
Sweat gathered between your heaving boobs in a thin layer as an explosion hit you so violently it shook every muscle. With his fingers still inside of you as your pussy throbbed around them, he found your lips and stole your remaining oxygen for himself, leaving you breathless.
His wet fingers slipped out of your cunt, your aching emptiness waiting to be filled by his cock that rested heavy against your thighs. As he released your lips, his gaze locked with yours, fingers caressing your cheek like you were precious and breakable all at once.
“Do we need, uhm…”
“A condom?” you finished his dangling question with a smile. He let his head drop to your shoulder and nodded bashfully in the crook of your neck. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head. “I don’t know. Have you been with anyone since the divorce?”
“No,” he replied simply. But Beau wanted to say much more than that. He wanted to tell you that he had waited for you. That you’d been prevalent in his mind for months now. That he didn’t want anyone else. All he managed was a one word answer and a shake of his head, though.
“Me neither,” you said quietly. Your husband had died thirteen months ago. You’d grieved but never felt ready to move on, to erase him with some stranger you’d met on the internet or in a dingy bar – not that you ever could.
Until Beau kissed you, you’d never thought you’d be able to love again.
His face changed upon your answer, a hint of worry haunting his features. “You-, uhm, you sure you want me to-… ‘Cause we don’t have to do anything… or, uhm, more, you know? We can just leave it at that and forget about it.”
You cupped his cheeks in your palms and forced him to look you into your eyes. You smiled at him reassuringly. “Hey, I want you to. I want it to be you, okay? I want you inside me.”
He chocked down a thick swallow upon your words, his cock needily throbbing between your legs. With a nod, he gripped his length and guided his tip to your soaking entrance, coating his dick in your arousal before gliding inside. Inch by inch he stretched you, sinking deeper and deeper till he filled you whole. Your lips parted when his forehead rested on yours as he relished in the feeling of you.
Neither of you had been with anyone since your respective spouses, a new feeling overwhelming both of you. Your breaths mingled before he claimed your lips, his hands roaming your sides as you stilled for a moment.
“Fuck, you feel so good, Y/N,” he groaned against the shell of your ear, nibbling down your jawline. “Always wanted this, even though ‘m gonna burn in hell for sayin’ it.”
“You feel good, too. But fuck… Beau, please,” you begged, arching your back to raise your hips and meet his, encouraging him to move. It didn’t take much for him to oblige.
His hips rolled slowly at first, each thrust becoming more forceful than the one that came before. His lips caressed your pebbled nipples, hands groping your tits as he explored every curve of your body.
Sinful mouth and gluttonous hands didn’t leave a single spot of your skin untouched, your flesh turning into unholy ground in his wake. He wanted you to be his, claim every bit of you in hopes of breaking a sacrilegious vow. His pumps were biblical, a great flood that buried you underneath him. Your cries of prayer were devout.
Neither of you spoke a word, your sole focus on each other as passion overtook you both, too busy with impatient kisses on mingling body parts. The silence in the room was filled with ragged moans, salacious sounds, and the occasional squeak of the old mattress.
His fingertips bruised your flesh, your heels digging into his lower back as he bottomed out. His fingers then interlaced with yours above your head till your grips were knuckle-white. You squeezed his cock, your pussy swallowing him whole.
Your cunt clenched and gripped him tightly as you came undone, your second climax washing over you with a slip of his name. Your whole body trembled in ecstasy, your nails digging into his back and your toes curling so much they came close to a cramp.
Beau let go after a few more pumps and grunted, spilling a full load of cum into you as his hips came to a jerky standstill. His head dropped to your shoulder as he caught his breath, sweaty skin meeting heaving chest.
Gently, you stroked his back and carded his damp hair with your fingertips, massaging his scalp as he softly groaned into the crook of your neck. Your heartbeat slowed to its regular rhythm. Your breathing calmed like the waves after a great storm. His head lifted off your shoulder. His eyes fixed on you. A smile twitched on the corners of his lips.
“So… that happened,” Beau said almost to an awkward degree. It made you snort a laugh.
“Technically, it’s still happening,” you noted with an amused smile and squeezed his softening cock inside of you.
“Oh, uh, right,” he muttered with a clear of his throat, his cheeks adorably blushing. He tried to slip out, but you stopped him, fastening your legs around his waist till he relaxed again.
“No, it’s alright. This is actually my favorite part,” you confessed and watched the smile on his freckled face widen.
“Yeah, mine too.” His knuckles caressed your cheek, his fingers tucking back some strands of your hair. “Was that okay? Do you, you know, feel good? Any, uhm, regrets?”
“No, I’m good. You were amazing,” you assured him with a tender smile and saw the relief wash over his features.
Beau tried to choke down the guilt and betrayal that bubbled deep in his chest. Truth was, he wanted to be selfish for once. He wanted you, and he wished you could feel the warmth that spread through his heart whenever he looked at you.
“Are you okay?” you checked when you noticed a glaze in his green eyes. At first glance, you assumed it was sadness, your heart weighing heavy in your ribcage before the crinkles of happiness around his eyes betrayed that theory.
“Yeah, I am, darlin’. For the first time in a long time, actually,” he said and kissed you long and deep.
Chapter 4: Rewind
All's well that ends well. Now it's just all lovely bliss till the end, innit? 🤣
Next week we have a bunch of awkward (maybe scandalous even?) flashbacks to dive in... 👀
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ok im gonna pass out now but i transcribed a decent chunk (5 minutes/1k words) of vitalasy & zam's conversation from yesterday! transcript under the cut
Vitalasy: Hi.
Zam: Hi. Okay. I've got a couple questions for you—
Vitalasy (overlapping): What’s going on?
Zam: I'm a little nervous.
Vitalasy: Okay
Zam: But, yeah. I don't know! Okay. when I think about my, like— my relationship with you on the server, right? it's a little, it's a little complicated, right, it's a little— little tricky, right? you know? We've had a lot of…tension, at times, or a lot of times where I wanted to kill you and you wanted to kill me and of course there was the time where… I ended up betraying you of course, and just— a lot that I've been thinking about a lot recently, and… I just, I don't know. I— I don't know, I just want you to know that… I'm sorry, and that (giggles) I don't know, I, it feels like— I I don't really know how to word this. but like— I don't know. A lot's changed since then, and I wanted you to know that. I really wanted you to know that, you know? I'm very different person now, so. I don't know. (pause) I'm really bad at this whole communicating thing, but, um—
Vitalasy (laughing): I mean, that— that's something that has stayed the same, then.
Zam (also laughing): Yep, yeah. Didn't improve in that r- I mean, I've improved a little bit—
Vitalasy: Maybe it goes both ways here, though.
Zam: Yeah, I don’t know. But, um, I wanted to show you something, okay? Because last time you were on the server, right? it was, like, during the abyss, right? or, I guess—other than this season, of course—but like—it was like, sort of abyss related?
Vitalasy: Yeah.
Zam: After— after you gave all your stuff to Jumper, um, after you gave all your stuff to Jumper and left the server, um… I— and like, she betrayed us, I kind of went on this whole, like, arc where I wanted to blow everything up on the server— specifically your base, um—
Vitalasy (overlapping): Wh— (splutters) I was gone!
Zam: because I knew it meant a lot to Jum—
Vitalasy (overlapping): What do you mean?
Zam: Well, it's because— it was to hurt Jumper, specifically, for betraying me, um—
Vitalasy: Okay.
Zam: And, again, a lot has changed since then, I'm not— I don't, that's not who I am anymore, and I want to show you that that's not who I am anymore, (breaks the slab in the corner revealing a water stream going down) so— I've built you a little present—
Vitalasy: Last time I— last time I followed you down a hole, I died.
Zam: (splutters) Th-th—that's not— okay— no,
Vitalasy: Let that be clear.
Zam: Not important! I—I— it's different. It's different this time, there's water and I'm down here. Just come on down! (pause; Vitalasy starts coming down the water stream) You can put your armor on if you want, but I mean, it's fine if you don't, it's cool. But, yeah. I don't know! Derapchu told me that I should build something—or, no, I think it was Kaboodle actually—said that, every single build that I have on the server, or, like, every place that means a lot to me, is, like, out in the open, right? Um, so I wanted to build something that meant a lot to me but wasn’t out in the open, so I've had this little area for like the past couple months and I just come here every now and then whenever I need to think and figure stuff out and I've really wanted to show it to you. for, like, a while now. (pause) So like, yeah.
Vitalasy: Zam.
Zam: mhm? …Cool.
Vitalasy: Cool.
Zam: (laughs) (sniffs) I'm sorry.
Vitalasy: Oh my God—wait. I need to— hold on, my camera is being annoying right now. But—
Zam: mhm.
(pause)
Vitalasy: Wait (inarticulate noise) Okay. Okay okay okay.
(pause)
Zam: So, like. Yeah.
Vitalasy: Zam, I don't— I don't know what to—
(pause)
Zam: What?
Vitalasy: When I think back on my favorite story
Zam: Mhm
Vitalasy: That I've done on lifesteal,
Zam: Mhm.
Vitalasy: I— think and talk about Eclipse Federation.
Zam: (noise; halfway between an exhale and a ‘hahh’?)
Vitalasy: Without a doubt, like—
Zam: mhm.
Vitalasy: I talk about it to— we're gonna, (stage whisper/exaggerated weird voice) I talk about it to my admissions officer, um—
Zam: Really?
Vitalasy: For college, yeah
(they both laugh a little)
Zam: Damn!
Vitalasy: Like, this was part of my, my, uh, college application season, ummm—
Zam: (laughs a lot) That's actually really cool.
Vitalasy: Yeah, like— really, if I'm gonna be so honest, I— I have very few regrets, and… this is not one of them.
Zam: Awwwwwwww.
Vitalasy: I, I don't, I don't regret anything that happened.
Zam: Okay.
Vitalasy: And, um—back then—
Zam: I do. I feel like you were right and I was wrong. But, yeah.
Vitalasy: No! No no no. I don't—I don't—I don't say that as a, I don't regret it because I was right, that's not what I'm trying to say, um—
Zam: I know. But like— I don't know, it's just like, I don't get to see you that often, so—it's just—I really, I wanted you to know that I feel like you were right and that I was wrong, and.
Vitalasy: (laughs) Come on.
Zam: I just like, I just wanted to say that—
Vitalasy: No, no, no. I'm not taking that. No, no, I'm not taking that! Are you kidding me?!
Zam: What do you mean?
Vitalasy: You can't say that! What? (punches Zam)
Zam: Okay…? (laughs) Okay.
Vitalasy: (punches Zam again) ‘Cause that's not true! That's not true.
Zam: Okay.
Vitalasy: I, I hid stuff from you.
Zam: …Uh-huh.
Vitalasy: Like, let that be so clear. And I'm glad we're, we're actually talking about it now— (looks around at the room) it's so weird, ‘cause like my worlds are kind of combining right now, (Zam laughs) but, um— (Vitalasy laughs) uhh
Zam: Yeah. Damn. Yeah, I don't know. I've just— missed you a lot and I'm really glad that you're back. Even if it's only for a little bit. (pause) So yeah.
(pause)
Vitalasy: We should play more. (punches Zam)
Zam: Yeah! That’d be cool, I’d be down.
Vitalasy: Yeah.
Zam: Yeah, for sure. I would love to see you around more, if you ever—could, I don’t know.
(pause)
Vitalasy: Yeah.
Zam: Yeah.
Vitalasy: We should see each other more. (punches Zam) We should see each other more.
Zam: Okay! I’m cool with that, yeah, of course.
Vitalasy: Yeah yeah yeah.
Zam: I really wanted to—yeah.
Vitalasy: (punches Zam) Let’s talk offstream. I, I think I have a couple ideas.
Zam: Okay, cool! I'm down, yeah. Alright.
#lifesteal smp#princezam#vitalasy#starfox#lifesteal#mcyt#zam#not a perfect transcript by any means#ideally i'd check the other vod to see if i can hear any of the words/sentences im unsure of more clearly#and i'd transcribe More Of It--there's a lot more good stuff in the vod!#but i'm pleased with what i have/it got my Favorite moment and it's longer than the clip transcripts i've seen passed around so!
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I don’t write Shin Soukoku
Mainly because I’m shitty at characterizing them, but hear me out.
A fanfiction where beast-Akutagawa gets transported to the canon world, (canon, or post canon where Shin Soukoku is canon, but it’s not needed), and he doesn’t notice until he goes to his job at the agency, and everyone just looks like a criminal walked in.
Oh, and Atsushi’s there.
Atsushi, depending on if Shin Soukoku is together in said fic, is either on edge and confused, or just confused.
It doesn’t take long to figure out he’s not from this universe from the way he doesn’t immediately try to kill anyone, especially Atsushi.
And either Dazai is MIA, or on a business trip, or they have to track down the ability user to send him home, idk, but until then, he just stays at the agency.
Maybe he ends up bunking with Atsushi, maybe he doesn’t.
If Dazai’s there he’s on edge around him the whole time, he also questions why Oda doesn’t work here, and if Dazai’s there he’s has some reaction, maybe he looks forlorn, maybe he has a more emotional reaction, again, idk.
But beast-Akutagawa and canon-Atsushi really seem to hit it off, because no one can convince me they wouldn’t.
Through some happens, maybe a mission, or maybe because they’re dating, canon-Akutagawa ends up meeting his counter part, and is really jealous about how well he gets along with Atsushi.
I don’t have anything else, but I feel as if there’s a lot there to explore.
#Shin soukoku#sskk#Beast!Akutagawa#Beast!Ryunosuke#Atsushi#Atsushi Nakajima#Nakajima Atsushi#Akutagawa#Ryunosuke Akutagawa#Ryunosuke#Akutagawa Ryunosuke#fic ideas#bungo stray dogs#bsd
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For the totally not official not-blog-event, may I request some happenstance where Dilah and Lilia have to look after the other’s son for some time? (As for whether or not Lilia is disguised, I’ll leave it up to you)
Referencing this post!
I’m going to write some headcanons for this one! ^^
Curiouser and Curiouser...
Most would feel insulted when their dorm leader goes out of their way to find someone to supervise them in their absence—but not Deuce!! He’s stoked to have a wise mentor figure to tutor and guide him. (He needs good role models if he wants to be a good role model himself one day, right?) Deuce just wasn’t expecting Lilia to be picked! (“Everyone else I asked was unavailable,” Riddle sighed. “Now do not burn the roses down while I’m away, is that understood?”)
“Kufufu. You don’t need to be shy or scared around me. I’m just your cute and friendly neighborhood Lilia-chan 🎵” he insists with an angelic smile. Almost immediately, Deuce feels like something… bad… is about to happen. He brushes that feeling off and happily welcomes Lilia to Heartslabyul (albeit a bit too stiffly and formally)—he has to remain polite with his upperclassmen, after all!
He brings a suitcase full of "the essentials". Lilia proceeds to pull out a bunch of weird-looking ingredients and ancient items. He claims they're all necessary for old wives' remedies--in case Deuce needs them!--as well as extra nutrients for his "world class" cooking that Deuce will get to experience later.
Lilia is a senpai and therefore theoretically a good tutor when Deuce needs help with his homework. And he is, for the most part! Problem is, when it comes to history, Lilia has a tendency to ramble and start telling personal stories. He ends up going so off topic that Deuce forgets what the initial question he had was.
Gets all excited to help his ward train for Track and Field Club. Lilia makes his own obstacle course in the Rose Gardens and drills Deuce in it. Deuce thought it would be a regular track at first, but then he notices the spikes, the lava pit, and the venomous snakes littering the field. "What? But this is the most basic of the basic!" Lilia tells him--so Deuce takes a deep breath, steels himself, and charges through.
Lilia wears a frilly "Kiss the Cook" apron as he cooks up some food! Trey nervously watches him and offers to help, but Lilia turns him down at every corner. As Trey leaves the kitchen, he tries signaling to Deuce to not take a bite. Too bad it goes over his head. One bite, and Deuce is knocked out cold. Lilia unfortunately misinterprets this as his food being so good, it took Deuce straight to heaven!
They bond over music! Lilia blares some of his favorite rock and metal songs for Deuce, who really vibes with how wild and free they are! He even shows Deuce some compositions he put together with the Pop/Light Music Club, demonstrating on his electric guitar (yes, he packed that with him). At one point, Cater joins them for a jam sesh but clocks out quickly--he's not sure how much his ears can take the volume. Riddle shouts at them to "turn it down", but it's hard to hear him over the music!
Lilia tries to help out with the chores by enchanting the brooms and mops to move on their own. Deuce asks him to please teach him. He doesn't want Lilia to do all the work--he wants to learn how to pull off such spectacular magic too! Lilia commends him for being so proactive, and, with a chuckle, sets to showing him the ropes.
Wakes Deuce up the next morning up hanging from his ceiling upside down. He screams, waking up Ace and his two other roomies, which delights Lilia to no end. "Rise and shine," he chirps. "My, you're so energetic, even first thing in the morning!"
Silver’s used to taking care of after himself while his father’s away on long journeys of self/discovery all over Twisted Wonderland. If he ever gets lonely, he has his animal friends and the Zigvolts to turn to. So… how did he somehow end up with a classmate’s mother looking after him? “It’s good to broaden your horizons and to meet new people!” Lilia had told him (right before casually peacing out)
“Put’r there, kid!” Dylla seizes Silver’s hand and gives it a good, vigorous shake. Her energy and strength definitely startles him wide awake (he was starting to drift off)! Silver suddenly realizes where Deuce got it from.
She cooks up omurice for Silver. It's Deuce's favorite, so she figures it would be a crowd pleaser for him as well. Dylla even puts in the effort to pipe on a little ketchup heart on the omelet, just how her son likes it~ Silver's surprised by the cuteness and how... non-lethal the omurice is. When he compliments Dylla, she simply laughs and tells him to eat up, cuz growing boys like him need more protein!
Dylla's impressed by Silver's horde of animal friends! She's used to seeing wild rabbits and birds in Clock Town, but never so many tamed woodland creatures. She tries to clumsily greet them, with Silver serving as the mediary and coaxing the birds to hop on her fingers and head. "No way!" Dylla gasps, giggling at the blue jay nipping at her neck. "Quick--take a picture of this, I need to show Deuce!" (Better that Silver take it anyway, Dylla's not that up to speed on the latest tech.)
She rolls up her sleeves and sets to tidying up Diasomnia! Silver suspects Dylla must be used to doing many things on her own, because she refuses help from him even when she's actively struggling. He silently steps in and takes the heavy armchair from her. "Don't push yourself too hard. If we work together, we can get things done sooner. It's... okay to rely on other sometimes--so please rely on me. Mrs. Spade."
Dylla finds him sleeping on a couch in the lounge. Instead of waking him up, she sighs and slips off her jacket and hat, placing them on Silver to keep him warm as he dreams. "... What am I going to do with you?" she says with a soft smile.
Silver's a good listener. Dylla doesn't mean to, but one thing leads to another and suddenly she's sharing all about her experiences as a single mother and what it's been like raising Deuce. He validates her and expresses empathy, saying that his own father must have similar experiences. "I'm thankful to him for working so hard to provide me with this life. I'm sure Deuce must feel the same way about you."
She tells him off when Silver tries to head out for his usual rounds of night patrol. Dylla turns him right back around and orders him to march off to bed! She worries that he'll be off doing something unsavory--or, Sevens forbid--get caught up in danger, all things her own son has been through.
Oh no! Silver slept in and now he's running late for class. Not to worry though. Dylla pulls up on a bike and tells him to hop on, she'll drive him to school. Silver thanks her and climbs aboard... not knowing that he's in for the wildest, roughest ride of his life. Hey, at least he'll be wide awake when he arrives for first period.
#twst#twisted wonderland#Lilia Vanrouge#Deuce Spade#twst headcanons#twisted wonderland headcanons#disney twisted wonderland#Silver#Dylla Spade#curiouser and curiouser#twst imagines#twst scenarios#twisted wonderland imagines#twisted wonderland scenarios#unofficial blog event#YES THAT’S WHAT I’M CALLING IT#disney twst#Lilia Vanrouge x Dylla Spade#Dylla Spade x Lilia Vanrouge
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CAN'T SLEEP
pairing; stepbro!jj x reader
summary; sometimes you think too much, you just need to go to a place where you can stop, be floaty, be happy. luckily for you, your very own step brother knows how to take you exactly there.
content; stepcest / fauxcest, subspace?, thigh grinding, thumb sucking, boobs
authors note; re upload!
you’ve been tossing and turning all night. sleep just can’t seem to find you. you just keep thinking, about nothing in particular, just thinking. you need to be thought free.
you quietly walk down the hallway so as not to wake anyone you don’t mean to. clad in nothing but a blanket and some panties, you make your way to your step brother jj’s room. he’d told you to come to him if you ever needed it.
upon knocking on the door, you’re greeted with a sleepy groan. you didn’t expect much less, it is just gone midnight on a wednesday. you take the noise as a signal to come in, and so you push the door open and step inside.
jj is half sat up, hair scruffed up and messy, still only barely conscious. he murmurs when he realises it’s you, rubbing his eyes in order to wake himself up. “hey sweetheart… ‘s up?” he asks, voice all deep and sleepy.
“can’t sleep.” you tell him, walking forward to crawl into bed with him, he lifts the covers to welcome you, “need y’help.”
“m’help?” he asks, arm coming to wrap around you, “need to stop thinkin’ again?” he knows that is what you need, but he questions anyway, just to give you a bit of choice on it, make you feel in control.
you nod, making yourself comfortable with your head against his bare chest, your own uncovered tits pressing against his torso, you feel his muscles tense just a little, but you pay no mind. “please jay. y’do it so well.”
he hums, nodding compliantly, “alright,” he murmurs deeply, “c’mere… i gotcha lil’ sis.” he pulls you into the right position, that being laid out on your back on top of him, your legs laying on either side of one of his which is propped up, knee up high so that his thigh brushes just right against your covered pussy.
his hands come up to wrap around your chest, cupping your bare boobs gently. you arch your back a little, shuffling for a moment until you’re completely comfortable, you let out a long exhale.
“yeah, that’s it sweetie,” he hums, “just relax. gonna let papa j take care of you, huh?” you sigh happily at those words. yes, he can take care of you. it’s moments like these that you forget he’s meant to be a brother figure to you, or you suppose sometimes these are the moments that you really remember.
your head falls back onto his shoulder as he starts to gently massage your tits, working the flesh in his hands and rolling your nipples under his fingers. he’s good at this, he applies the perfect amount of pressure, not painful, but enough to give you that sensation, the one that makes your hips buck ever so slightly.
he brings his leg up more, applying some pressure to your most sensitive area. you whimper and grind down ever so slightly, all the thoughts leaving your head as you move. you can feel his breath close to your ear. you start to moan freely, forgetting the other people in the house.
jj, attentive as ever, takes one hand off your boob and brings it up to place his fingers in your mouth, silencing your noises so that the only sound is the ruffling of sheets and heavy breath, no longer loud enough to wake anyone.
he whispers into your ear, “there you go sweetheart. let it all go,” he tells you, flexing his bare leg muscles as you grind. it feels so good, you love when he makes you feel good.
you gag on his fingers slightly from the movement and he makes sure to pull them out slightly. as much as he enjoys it under circumstance, he doesn’t feel like having you vomit on him right now.
you were so needy, it barely takes five minutes for you to approach a climax. your legs shake ever so slightly and your body goes limp against his. he chuckles, head coming up so that he can speak into your ear, “that’s better sweetheart.” he smiles, continuing to massage your tits in such a relaxing way, “that’s better.”
you finally feel like you can sleep.
#lily writes 𝜗𝜚#jj maybank prompt#stepbro!jj#jj maybank concept#jj maybank drabble#jj maybank blurb#jj maybank fic#jj maybank outer banks#jj maybank smut#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader
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At long last: behind-the-scenes commentary for Lavender’s Blue Chapter 1.
Usual disclaimer that these thoughts aren’t necessarily canonical to the fic verse until/unless I write them into the actual story.
Lavender is a recursive fanfic for my own AU fanfic, so I truly, honestly didn’t think it would be as popular as it is. Two years ago, I would’ve said that an Aemond fic (like Compromise) would’ve been way more popular than any Aegon fic, but life is full of surprises. 🤷🏻♀️
Chapter titles are quotes from Westerosi wedding ceremonies performed under the Faith of the Seven (both book and show verse).
The fic was originally supposed to be a short threeshot. As you can see, it’s a full-ass story at 8 chapters and 80k words. 🤡 When I wrote the first chapter, I wasn’t planning on the moon tea scheme, Dorne arc, or prophecy-mad Vizzy T storyline. The fic was just supposed to be Jace and Aegon figuring out an arranged marriage when they don’t know each other. But then I started writing Chapter 2 and I decided I needed plot. 😂
We start the fic with Aegon in his pre-Jace state: a medieval frat bro who just wants to chug beer and sleep around. At first sight, he embodies the “useless heir who’ll probably run his inheritance into the ground” trope. But I try to make it evident fairly quickly that Aegon has a profound depth of emotions, and he shouldn’t be written off just yet.
Back when the fic was supposed to be a threeshot all in Aegon’s POV, Myranda had a different role. Aegon would be teased for falling in love with Jace, and he would try to prove them wrong by going back to Myranda at the brothel. But at the last minute he realizes he can’t go through with it, Myranda gets catty about Jace, he says something like “yeah you’re pretty but not as pretty as my wife,” and Myranda throws him out. The final draft turned out very different, but this alternate story would’ve been kinda funny.
When I imagine pregnant Rhaenyra and pregnant Alicent having a huge fight, I also imagine fetus!Jace and fetus!Aemond being very confused about all the clamor they can hear in the womb.
Aegon acts like he hates the idea of the betrothal, but he definitely keeps that portrait of Jace in his room and looks at it every so often. Now I’m thinking of another AU where Aegon goes to Driftmark to see if Jace is as pretty as everyone says, and maximum chaos ensues because he decides marriage isn’t so bad actually, so they should just marry ASAP.
The Velargirls get the title “princess” solely because Viserys is desperately trying to win back Rhaenyra’s favor. (It doesn’t work, of course.)
Alicent is projecting a lot onto Jace, which is one of the reasons she tries so hard to be nice to Jace. Young Alicent in S1 felt very isolated in her early days as queen, so now she frets that Jace will feel the same. This universe’s Alicent never had her green dress moment, and she doesn’t defy Viserys like she does in S1E6. Here, she tries to exert her influence over Aegon to ensure that at least one other girl (Jace) might be spared some kindness from her husband. This conversation, plus Aegon’s core memory of the aftermath of Alicent’s marital rape, have a big impact on the way he treats Jace.
Otto is keenly aware of the Velaryons’ many dragons, ships, and wealth. In this universe, he prioritizes making the Velaryons happy, because he really doesn’t want the dragons on Driftmark turning against the Crown.
If Jace weren’t betrothed to Aegon from the moment she was born, she would’ve been raised as the heir to Driftmark rather than as a future queen. She can’t be both because, like I mentioned in Compromise, Corlys wants the ruler of Driftmark to always make their seat a priority. Yet another interesting AU idea: Jace is raised as heir to Driftmark, but she can’t keep her status as heir if she marries Aegon. 🤔
In F&B, Viserys is the one who betroths Aegon and Helaena so they can’t marry other houses and gather support against Rhaenyra. Viserys almost does that in this AU before Otto talks him out of it.
Helaena’s quip about Aegon smiling is because she knows he’s about to smile so hard that his face hurts. ☀️
The Green kids get a more functional relationship with their mother in this universe. Alicent isn’t worried about securing Aegon as heir or protecting them from Rhaenyra/Daemon. As a result, she’s much more present in her kids’ lives.
Baela and Rhaena have been absorbed into the Velaryon clan because Daemon ditched them. 💀 He originally planned to take them back to Penrose (like he mentions in S1E7), but he saw how much they were thriving with their extended family. So he allowed the twins to stay on Driftmark—but he left because he didn’t see a place for himself in the Seven Kingdoms anymore. 😔
There is NO WAY Jace is making her debut at court in riding leathers, with messy hair and the stench of dragon. Just picture her and the other girls in the wheelhouse on the way to the Red Keep, frantically changing clothes and brushing hair and spraying perfume. 😂
Aegon: “everyone lies at court.” Aegon 5 seconds later: “nice to see you again, Rhaenyra!”
It would be fun to see 12yo Aemond’s adventure sneaking out of the castle, hitchhiking to Crackclaw Point, and claiming Vhagar. Damn, I need to stop giving myself ideas.
Aegon and Daemon have similar reactions to Joff’s name. Truly, they would get along so well in another life.
Aemond fell into horny at first sight. 😌 Also I love his and Aegon’s brotherly telepathy.
Jace isn’t a military person, but she knows how to go on a strategic offensive. Her goal is to make Aegon like her, so she starts off on the right foot by dressing in Sunfyre’s colors.
Aegon was told to stop doing frivolous things, like draw and play the lute, because those aren’t useful talents for a king. 😞
“I don’t believe you’ve met.” Viserys actually cannot remember if Aegon has met Jace. 💀
Jace is honestly happy to meet Aegon. Alicent made sure he cleaned up well, so he’s looking very dapper.
Jace did her homework for the tourney. She memorized sigils, names, and family trees so she could make a good first impression on all the lords and ladies. Aegon could never. (Good thing he’s marrying her.)
Because Jace has heard rumors about Aegon’s profligacy, she tries to prevent him from drinking too much and potentially causing a scene. The questions she distracts him with are carefully chosen to a) be questions he can answer intelligently and b) help her get to know her husband a bit. She can multitask! And in the end, Aegon is so intrigued by his wife-to-be that he loses interest in drinking. Wins all around.
Aegon notices that he can never catch Jace alone. We learn from her POV this is intentional because she’s worried he might try to seduce her before the wedding ceremony.
Aegon and Aemond have sexual experience, but not romantic experience, so women are a mystery to them. 🙃 Daeron, meanwhile, is like “why don’t you just treat girls like people, they’re not a different species.”
Velargirls are sneakily interrogating Helaena for info about the Targbros. Helaena knows it, and she lets them do it. Her brothers will thank her for it one day.
Otto’s daily cup of prune juice is one of my favorite running jokes in this series.
The bit about Aegon’s “accessories” lying around his bed is a reference to the infamous screenshot in S1E8 of Aegon’s medieval sex toy collection. 😳
The handkerchief that Aegon notices in Jace’s room is the handkerchief she gives him later. It’s also the same handkerchief he waves as a white flag to Laenor and Rhaenys in Chapter 6. Luce knitted the shawl for Jace, of course.
Septa Lucinda is another of my favorite running jokes. Modern!Jace definitely secretly reads smutty romance novels.
Rhaenyra’s diagrams about sex were also mentioned in The Golds. 🤭
Jace wakes up early enough before Aegon that she has time to primp and dress herself to her usual level of being presentable. But she already feels comfortable enough around Aegon to leave off some of her public-facing layers. She even switches to her usual robe, the kind she wears for lounging alone in her room, rather than the skimpy one that’s designed to make Aegon like her.
Viserys intentionally sent the messenger late enough that Aegon would be late to the meeting. 🙄 Luckily for Aegon, his wife is an expert at making people look presentable in very little time.
Even though Larys isn’t able to worm his way into Alicent’s confidence in this AU, he still offs his father and brother. Larys has ambition, and he has better odds of sneakily climbing up the ladder if he’s the lord of Harrenhal rather than a spare.
Aegon is very ADHD-coded in this verse. He also just isn’t meant for administrative work.
Toward the end of this chapter, Aegon has the realization that he’s been using sex as a band-aid. He wants to feel accepted and wanted for himself. As Helaena says later, he wants to be seen. And he already feels like Jace can give him that. Them giving each other permission to call each other by their first name is another milestone in both of them shedding their masks.
Jace’s job in this universe is being Aegon’s wife (at first), and she performs her job like her life depends on it (which it kinda does…?). She already figured out that Aegon gets hangry. Or maybe hupset would be more accurate.
All the urban planning and governance topics that Jace studies isn’t part of a typical lady’s education. But she grew up super close to Rhaenys, who was given an heir’s education. And Corlys and Laenor definitely indulge the Velargirls in their interests.
Aegon does indeed fulfill his promise to build a more beautiful and comfortable throne for Jace next to his. 🥰
See Chapter 2 commentary here.
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Based on your last post- how would you handle a villain Adrien arc? Would it be from the get-go, or would you have him change sides somewhere along the line? Would it be of his own choice and motivations, or would he be coerced into it? (Or some mix of the two where he disagrees with the method his father does things but goes along because he has the same motive, his mom?)
(Post in question)
Villain Adrien is an incredibly hard sell for me. I can only think of one fic that felt reasonably in character and I think it only worked because it starts after Gabriel's defeat, so you don't have to actually see Adrien being evil. Anything that actually tries to show Adrien willingly hurting others just doesn't work. It doesn't feel like Adrien. Lashing out in the moment might* fit him, but prolonged villainy? Nope. You'd have to take his character through a damnation arc to make it fit. While canon has set him up for one, I don't particularly want to see that. Canon Adrien has suffered enough.
So why would I suggest villain Adrien as a solution?
I have actually spent a good deal of time trying to figure out how to make Adrien work as a villain because it's a semi-popular premise and I enjoy a writing challenge. After a lot of thought, I have a solution that I think would work. I will probably never write this fic, but the basic ideas are simple enough that I can explain the first act and why I think it would work as a way to take Miraculous beyond the Gabriel conflict.
The story would start in much the same way we already see in Origins. Gabriel activates the butterfly, leading to Fu choosing Marinette and Adrien. The big difference is that, this time around, Gabriel and Emilie tell Adrien almost everything. Adrien knows that his mother is in a coma, that the miraculous exist, and that a wish can fix everything. He just doesn't know that the wish has a downside because Gabriel didn't share that little detail. So, when Adrien gets his miraculous, he sees this as a way to fix everything. Just like in canon, he doesn't let Plagg explain everything. Instead, Adrien immediately transforms and seeks out his partner only, this time, he tries to get her earrings off of her. She knows that's a bad thing and runs away, leaving him confused. He goes to his father who is able to get his hands on the ring long enough to command Plagg's silence about the wish's downsides, ensuring Adrien is kept in the dark.
This leads to a short arc where Gabriel uses akumas to draw Ladybug out so her and Chat Noir can "talk" or something along those lines, but it doesn't go well and Adrien isn't okay with attacking the city. It isn't long before he switches sides and Gabriel is defeated, but the damage is done re Ladynoir. Marinette gets to do her "Adrien is evil" first impression, but while it's still a misunderstanding, it's not a minor one that can be solved with an umbrella in the rain. Fu is much more understanding and forgiving, so he doesn't take the black cat back, leading into a wider story where Adrien and Marinette have to fight a new evil while Marinette struggles to see past her first impression. So it's not so much evil Adrien so much as misguided and manipulated Adrien who has to win his Lady's trust and prove that he really is a hero while also working through his own guilt about everything that happened with his father.
*Quick note: canon has Adrien lash out in anger, so I can't say it's wrong to write him like that, but I think it's a massive misstep writing wise. The black cat's power set needs to be in the hands of someone who doesn't lash out in anger. Harsh words, sure, but cataclysms? Hard no. Season five made Adrien come across as totally unsuited to his powers.
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